


Venenum

by MyThoughtBubbles



Category: Naruto
Genre: Anal Fingering, Arson, Dark, Dubious Consent, Dubious Ethics, Emotional Manipulation, Falling In Love, Iruka worship, Love Confessions, M/M, Non-Consensual Kissing, Non-board certified usage of the sharingan, Obsessive Behavior, POV Hatake Kakashi, Possessive Hatake Kakashi, Protective Hatake Kakashi, Psychological Manipulation, References to Drugs, Sharingan lobotomy, Smut, Stalker Kakashi, Twisted love, a dash of gaslighting, a tale of seduction, but not TOO dark, genjutsu artistic liberties, handjobs, someone save Iruka, technically there's fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-07
Updated: 2019-07-02
Packaged: 2019-07-08 06:10:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 6
Words: 32,066
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15924491
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MyThoughtBubbles/pseuds/MyThoughtBubbles
Summary: He would lay waste to the world if Iruka so desired. He would bring Konoha to its knees and kneel in the ashes before Iruka in supplication if only to see Iruka’s smile directed towards him.





	1. Veni

**Author's Note:**

  * For [HazelBeka](https://archiveofourown.org/users/HazelBeka/gifts).



"Could he daily feel a stab of hunger for you and find nourishment at the very sight of you?  
Yes.   
But do you ache for him? "  
―Bedelia Du Maurier, _Hannibal_

 

Kakashi watches Iruka browse another market stall.

He’s hidden in a tree but pretends to be reading, idly flipping through the pages of Icha Icha Tactics as his grey eye tracks Iruka over the top of the book. Iruka carries a basket of vegetables and fruits, enough for a single person for a week. He stops at another stall and inspects an apple, turning it over before tucking it into his basket and paying the merchant.

Iruka is a creature of habit.

He takes the same path home to and from his shift at the Academy and Mission Room, visits the same stalls at the market with only an occasional change, solely uses the third training ground for practicing his katas of which he does four sets before focusing on jutsu, visits his parents grave once a month, and heads to Ichiraku’s every Tuesday evening for dinner. Kakashi has a neat mental map of the details of Iruka’s daily life, taken with extreme care and updated with each new piece of information that he discovers.

Kakashi finds Iruka’s stability alluring. His world is nothing but chaos and death, and Iruka’s is the opposite. Iruka is an ocean of calm, unyielding and patient, capable of washing away the blood on Kakashi’s hands. The yin to his yang, wholly matched to suit one another. Were Kakashi in the habit of waxing poetic, he would declare them soulmates and dedicate odes to the perfection that is Iruka.

He’s in love with Iruka.

He loved him the moment he saw Iruka grapple with the ordeal of teaching Naruto, his compassionate nature warring with the pain of having lost his parents to the demon inside of the boy. Iruka was everything he wasn’t and Kakashi was helpless to his pull.

He loves Iruka so much, he can hardly control himself around him. He’d break Iruka’s wings and hide him from the world if only to keep him safe and protected with Kakashi at his side. He burns with jealousy when someone else sees Iruka’s smile. He trembles with rage when someone dares touch Iruka.

He would lay waste to the world if Iruka so desired. He would bring Konoha to its knees and kneel in the ashes before Iruka in supplication if only to see Iruka’s smile directed towards him.

He wants Iruka with a fervor that cannot be satiated. He knows Iruka is lonely, just like him. The other is merely casual acquaintances with the other Academy teachers and is not close to any of the shinobi in the Mission Room. He’s alone, and it’s okay because Kakashi is too. Kakashi will fill that void. He needs to have Iruka before someone tries to steal him away and Kakashi has to harm his fellow shinobi again. The chuunin had been nowhere near as perfect as Iruka, and it was laughable to think he was worthy of kissing the ground at Iruka’s feet.

For all of Kakashi’s covert pining, Iruka never displayed any overt attraction to him. He greeted the other easily in the Mission Room, waved at Kakashi when they passed each other in the street and would even chat with him when Naruto would draw them together. But what was attraction except for a potent chemical cocktail of dopamine, norepinephrine, and endorphins? Easily manufactured when the right signals are processed and internalized through reinforcement, stimulus-response, and neurochemistry. Iruka just needed a little push.

Iruka leaves his line of vision and Kakashi hums, pondering. It would be easy. He sees the path laid out in front of him with the finesse of a master chess player, the pieces outlined and primed to be moved. He need only begin the game.

Kakashi snaps his books shut with the twist of his fingers and drops out of the tree. He begins the trek home, taking the long way to avoid running into Gai and initiating another set of challenges. He refines the design of the first phase in his mind, methodically combing over every detail with the intensity of a new A-rank mission that involves a missing-nin from his Bingo book.

Satisfied, Kakashi smiles. It is time.

 

Manipulating his directives to take on B and C-rank missions would arouse suspicion, so Kakashi has to make do with the unpredictability of his A-class workload.

After a nauseatingly boring mission across the Fire Country as an escort for some feudal lord, Kakashi fills out his mission report, leaving it partially incomplete and smudged with blood from a wound he’s yet to treat. He waits in line in the Mission Room, watching Iruka peer through reports from other shinobi in his familiar routine: Iruka takes the scroll, glimpses through, stamps for approval, and sends the shinobi on their merry way. It’s rare moment when a higher-rank shinobi dares scoff at Iruka’s polite criticism on their report, summoning Iruka’s legendary temper and receiving a verbal dressing down. Kakashi knows Iruka only does so when it’s someone he dislikes.

As he waits, Kakashi ruminates on the path of his obsession. His defense is plain; he’s in love with Iruka, and he would do anything Iruka asked of him. It had started off innocently enough, with Kakashi merely noticing Iruka around Konoha with increasing frequency. He began to keep an eye out for him, watching him mature and start teaching at the Academy. It gradually reached a level where he actively sought Iruka out, just to make sure he was okay. From there, Kakashi had truly sunk into his infatuation and Iruka became a permanent fixture in his life.

He’s not unstable enough to deceive himself into thinking that his actions are healthy, but he can’t find an ounce of concern housed within him. If he were to visit Ibiki, he would most certainly be classified as a delusional stalker, and yet the term didn’t quite fit.

Stalkers built fantasies around the unobtainable, they themselves socially inadequate and incapable of forming personal relationships. They operate in an illusion, fully believing divine intervention has a hand in their pursuit to the point they become pathologically dependent on their love interest and take drastic measures when they ultimately fail. Kakashi harbors no such delusions and simply knows Iruka will become his through Iruka’s own acceptance. The key is subtlety.

Stalkers throw themselves at their loved one, demanding their attention and affection. They are abrasive, too desperate. Instead of wooing their obsession, they push them away in fear, securing their failure. They transition to accepting animosity as a form of attention, clinging to threads of a nonexistent reciprocity, pathetically so.

It’s his turn.

Kakashi holds back a grin as he submits his report, purposefully brushing Iruka’s outstretched fingers. The touch wrecks havoc on his body but Iruka takes no notice.

Iruka skims his report, pauses and re-reads, forehead creasing. Then, he stamps. “Please be sure to fill out the sections on which weapon stocks you utilized next time, Kakashi-san. I’ll let it pass by this time. And please avoid contaminating the report scroll by visiting the hospital first. Thank you for your work.”

Iruka offers him a cordial smile and Kakashi can see his eyes tactfully searching for his wound.

“Of course, sensei,” he apologizes with tilt of his head.

Wanting to whistle, Kakashi sticks his hands in his pockets and leaves. In the safety of his compound, he brings the marked flesh to his nose and inhales, catching faint traces of Iruka’s touch. He shivers.

 

On the third time, Iruka notices the touch and glances up at him after receiving the report, breaking his routine. The confused curiosity on his face is beautiful and Kakashi resists pulling him into a kiss.

 

Kakashi meets his gaze steadily on the fifth time, offering a second of contact before exiting with a small wave as Iruka stares after him.

 

“See, the lettering is smudged. It’s been raining lately. You were his jounin-sensei, it’s likely for you,” the boy stammers, the same look of fear and respect in his face that Kakashi’s accustomed to; The Copy-Nin’s masked face is pretty recognizable, ironic as it is.

Kakashi takes the scroll from the sentry shinobi and skims the outside, immediately recognizing the handwriting on the address as Naruto’s. He’s mildly surprised to be getting a letter from Naruto-- it’s a first. It’s been months since the genin disappeared with Lord Jiraiya.

Kakashi flips it over. “Have you come across any others?” He spots the faded pen marks, seeing Iruka’s name as the recipient. He wonders if the sentry is a complete twit, but he’s grateful for his stupidity as a new step to his design stitches itself together in the back of his mind.

“Ah, no, jounin-sama, sorry. I’m new to the position, and so I-”

“Are you on mail detail?”

The sentry looks deflated. “Uh, no, jounin-sama. Just for the ones with high security, but-”

Kakashi pins the poor fool with a glare. “For the record, any more correspondence from Naruto is to come directly to me, unless otherwise specified. Withhold any if I’m on a mission and deliver as soon as I arrive. Understood?”

The sentry salutes, his back ramrod-straight. “Y-yes! Yes, jounin-sama!”

Point made, Kakashi makes his way to Iruka’s complex. Inspecting the inoffensive paper, he’s tempted to open it and see what Naruto is sharing, but resists, knowing his reaction will be more truthful when Iruka shares it with him.

Kakashi knocks on Iruka’s door, his heart thumping in tune.

Iruka is surprised to see him, opening the door wider. “Kakashi-san?”

“Yo,” Kakashi greets, raising a hand in a salute. It thrills him to hear Iruka say his name.

Iruka steps aside. “Please come in. To what do I owe this pleasure? Ah, excuse me a moment.”

Iruka busies himself by cleaning up his coffee table. Kakashi glances at the papers he’s stuffing into a messenger bag -- school assignments. He feels the corner of his mouth curve up at the thought of Iruka bent over the table, studiously grading each student’s work.

Iruka gestures for Kakashi to take a seat, hands clasping together. “Would you like something to drink, Kakashi-san? I can whip up some tea, coffee, or would you like some water...?”

Kakashi holds up the letter. “Perhaps another time, sensei. I come as a messenger today. It’s from Naruto.”

“Naruto?” Iruka’s eyes go wide at the scroll and he takes it carefully from Kakashi’s hand, too absorbed to notice Kakashi’s intentional touch. Iruka sits down on his couch and opens the scroll, reading intently.

As Iruka is occupied, Kakashi uses the opportunity to survey the inside of Iruka’s home. He notices a new potted plant sitting in the corner by Iruka’s TV, further building Iruka’s collection. It adds another homey touch, something entirely missing in Kakashi’s own home. Kakashi wonders what his compound will look like with potted plants. If anything, Iruka will love the back garden.

As he waits, Kakashi heads to the kitchen and sets about making tea, just the way Iruka likes. He knows where everything is. Once he has a nice steaming brew in one of Iruka’s favorite mugs, he brings it over and sets it down in front of him, taking a seat.

Iruka blinks at the mug, lowering the letter. “Oh! Thank you!” He picks it up and blows across the top. “How did you know where I keep my mugs?”

Kakashi gives a one shoulder shrug. “Same place I keep mine,” he offers, a small hint to their compatibility. “Is Naruto well?”

Iruka beams and lets Kakashi read the letter, drinking the tea and letting out a small noise of satisfaction. “Wow, this is good. _Really_ good.”

Kakashi inclines his head in acknowledgement, wanting to taste it from Iruka’s lips. He commits the compliment to memory to cherish it later.

The letter is mostly full of Naruto’s complaints about Lord Jiraiya, a few that drag a dry chuckle from Kakashi. He takes his time, soaking up every second that he’s with Iruka. Beside him, Iruka fidgets, no doubt realizing he has one of Konoha’s most dangerous nin in his home, on his couch. Kakashi lets the silence become heavy as he finishes.

Iruka stands, brushing his hands on his thighs. “It’s getting pretty late. Will you stay for dinner, Kakashi-san?”

Kakashi sets the letter down with a fumble at the request, calculated awkwardness fairly easy to emulate, and rises to his feet. Kakashi knows they’re not close, yet, and it’s only mild curiosity about him that’s buzzing around Iruka’s mind. He will not push it despite the vicious urge that claws at the inner walls of his ribs, demanding he stay. “Unfortunately I have to be on my way. Sleep well, Iruka-sensei.”

He leaves with a one-eyed smile and a tip of his head.

 

Kakashi is only mildly pissed when his top-level clearance is denied access to the restricted areas of the Konoha Archives Library.

He returns later that night.

Fingers to the fluttering pulse of the jounin on guard, Kakashi drags the man into a neighboring room and locks him in with a series of seals, unapologetic. He will not let anything stand in his way.

Kakashi shuts the door behind him and tugs off his ANBU mask, glancing around the room. Childhood traumas and experiences can be worked in his favor. He knows bits and pieces from Iruka’s history, both from eavesdropping and from his earlier interactions with Iruka, but wants needs to know more to enact his second move. He _will_ know _everything._ Iruka’s co-workers had proven useless and Kakashi hated the time he wasted on them; he’d much rather have Iruka reveal his secrets. All in due time.

Exposing the Sharingan, he effortlessly breaks through the wall of seals protecting the files. He finds Iruka’s file and is in the process of pulling it out when he spots his own. It gives him pause, and he wonders what sort of fucked up shit is written in there. He finds vague amusement in knowing his current actions would have him firmly placed in the Konohakagure Psychiatric Hospital, tucked away in the forbidden underbelly of course.

“Hm.”

They’ve only seen what he’s wanted them to see and Kakashi has little regard for what others may think of his love. It is only Iruka that matters.

Kakashi flips through it, quickly memorizing Iruka’s life. While his own history has come with a plethora of issues, both acknowledged and ones Kakashi doesn’t bother to address, he can’t help the flare of sympathy when the file discloses Iruka’s childhood and family lineage. He is the last, just like Kakashi. They belong together.

He returns the file carefully and replaces the seals. He visits another restricted room on his way out.

 

At his compound, he releases his summons and lets them roam as he changes into sweats and a tank-top. Pakkun questions his mood, specifically the spring in Kakashi’s step but he waves him off and slips into a meditation pose in his training room, sinking into the recesses of his mind. He wonders what observations his clone will bring him in the morning.

 

The very next day, he casually runs into Iruka outside of the Academy.

Adopting a slouch, Kakashi times his entrance. Iruka steps out of the doors to the Academy, adjusting his messenger bag and waving goodbye to his fellow teachers.

“Yo, sensei.” At the sound of his voice, Iruka’s head whips around to him. He has Iruka’s full attention and it breathes life into his lungs.

“Kakashi-san! What a surprise meeting you here.”

They fall in line together on the way to Iruka’s complex and Kakashi shrugs, surreptitiously tracking the rest of the teachers leaving the building. “I got lost on the path of life.”

Iruka laughs. Kakashi feels spellbound by the colors in Iruka’s hair, his hand twitching to run through the strands. “You know, I think Naruto’s tried to use that on me before. I _wonder_ from whom he learned it.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about, sensei. I am but a humble man with impeccable timing.”

“Arriving late is impeccable timing?”

“I arrive precisely when I mean to,” Kakashi replies, twisting his tone to sound sullen.

Iruka peers up at Kakashi, quirking an eyebrow. “Now I _really_ know where he--”

Kakashi reveals his Sharingan the moment the last teacher vanishes down the road and he knows they’re alone. With a push of chakra, he implants the genjutsu he constructed the previous night. Iruka looks startled at seeing the Sharingan but doesn’t react to Kakashi’s invasion of his mind, completely unaware.

He blinks. “Kakashi-san?”

Iruka’s eyes are his undoing.

Kakashi lets his mask slip and allows Iruka to see the depth of his obsession and how much he adores the other. He cups Iruka’s cheeks and draws closer to lean down, almost crooning, “I love you, sensei. I love you so much that I can barely stand it. Wait a little longer and you’ll be mine. I’ll make it good.” He seals his promise with a searing kiss, a growl rumbling in his throat. He pours his love into the kiss, almost trembling as he reveals his heart. Iruka struggles against him and Kakashi kisses him harder. It’s okay, he knows Iruka will come around.

Kakashi pulls back when Iruka’s teeth sink into his bottom lip and draw blood, and Iruka’s hands plant on his shoulders, shoving him back. Kakashi reluctantly lets go, Sharingan swirling as it captures the perfection of Iruka’s face, even with outrage narrowing his eyes and Kakashi’s own blood on Iruka’s mouth. Kakashi licks his lips, Iruka’s taste a delicacy on his tongue.

“ _Hatake-san_ !” Iruka cries, the back of his hand coming up to cover his mouth as he retreats. “ _What the fuck-_ -!”

Kakashi’s hands are a blur as he invokes a forbidden Yamanaka jutsu and plants his palm on Iruka’s forehead, swiftly erasing the last few seconds of their interaction.

Iruka’s face goes slack and he freezes, arms dropping limply to his side. Kakashi wipes the blood away tenderly, finger dipping slightly into Iruka’s mouth. He had diverted from the plan, catering to his impulse; it had been too early and he would pay the consequences. Kakashi softly kisses away the last of the blood, savoring the press of their lips before hiking his mask up and hiding the Sharingan beneath his hitai-ate. He steps to Iruka’s side, shoving his hands in his pockets.

Slowly, Iruka comes back to himself, and Kakashi speaks as if nothing has happened.

“-needs better time management skills. Maybe that’s something you can help him out with when he returns, sensei.”

“Yes?” Iruka answers groggily, shaking his head. He grimaces. “Sorry, I think I drifted off for a second.”

Kakashi memorizes the sound of his voice, intent to hear it fall to pieces. He chooses that moment to leave, both as penance for his indiscretion and to let Iruka rest. The Yamanaka technique was difficult one to suffer through. “Quite alright, sensei. You must be tired after dealing with genin all day. It takes a special kind of person to be able to put up with all of that.”

“They’re not all bad,” Iruka insists, the fire returning to his eyes. “You’ve only successfully taught three genin, Kakashi-san.”

Kakashi grins, letting it show through the mask. “Yeah, yeah, and that was absolutely enough. I did my time.”

Iruka laughs at that and Kakashi feels indescribably happy, lips continuing to buzz with sensation.

“In all seriousness, go home and rest. We can’t have you tired around murderous children, sensei.” Iruka looks mildly disappointed and Kakashi is elated.

Iruka snorts. “Fair point, I concede. Goodbye, Kakashi-san.”

Deliberately, Kakashi reaches over and clamps a hand firmly onto Iruka’s shoulder. “I’ll be seeing you, Iruka.” He turns away from Iruka’s startled look and saunters down the road.

 

Kakashi keeps away a total of three days and an impromptu week-long mission before he heads to reap the reward of his efforts. It was grueling, but worth the stolen kiss.

It’s one in the morning and the Chuunin barracks are utterly dark and silent.

Donned in a standard issue black poncho, Kakashi walks down the path, senses on alert for any unwelcome trespasser. A lamppost is flickering and he shoves a bit of electricity-tinged chakra in it to help it along. It burns brightly, granting a clear view of Iruka’s complex. Kakashi settles down a few rooftops away and begins to wait, filling the time by refining his third move.

Around four AM, he hears the sounds of someone pottering around their home, clearly awake. He perks up, adrenaline spiking.

Iruka steps out of his flat in a civilian t-shirt and pajama pants, disheveled and unsteady. He grasps the railing and leans on it, running a hand through his loose hair as he takes in some night air. He’s shaking slightly, breath elevated.

Kakashi relishes the sight of him for a long moment before taking his cue and slinking off the rooftop. He strolls down the street, hands in his pockets and making sure to walk close enough so that Iruka can recognize him. He hears a quiet noise of surprise and Iruka calls out his name, conscientious of his neighbors.

“ _Kakashi_?”

Kakashi acts similarly surprised and veers towards Iruka. Iruka’s casual usage of his name is reverberating in his head and he’s thrilled the sensei is comfortable enough to drop the honorifics. The sour scent of sweat and lingering fear meets his nose as he glances up at Iruka. From his position, he could be worshipping the teacher; Kakashi smartly avoids falling to his knees.

“You should be sleeping, sensei,” he offers, noticing the dark circles beneath Iruka’s haunted eyes. Iruka’s shoulders are tight with stress.

Kakashi wants to soundly fuck Iruka to sleep and make sure he never wakes up in fear again. He knows it’s means to an end and feels no guilt. He will make up for it, regardless.

“As should you,” Iruka replies tiredly. “What are you doing out so late?”

Kakashi waits a beat. “It’s refreshing to take a night walk. It offers a chance out of one’s own head without an audience.”

He watches Iruka absorbs this, interested in Kakashi’s reveal and the lack of deflection into something lascivious. Kakashi ponders the idea of showing Iruka how to hide his emotions --the thought of being the only recipient to Iruka’s smiles and coy looks almost makes him dizzy-- but it wouldn’t work. Iruka wears his heart on his sleeve and Kakashi loves him more for that.

“Have I interrupted your walk?”

Kakashi cocks his head. “No reason it can’t continue. Care to join me? I’ll protect you from the monsters.”

Iruka gives a weak laugh, relieved for the company and reprieve from the demons in his head. He leans further over the banister, hair falling to frame his face. “The only monster around here is an evil cat that rummages around the garbage bins and makes off with any laundry you leave out. Up for the challenge?”

Kakashi swallows, keeping his legs firm. “I’m more of a dog person myself, but I’ll take that bet. What do you say, sensei?”

Iruka grins, face lighting up despite the shadows in his eyes. “In that case, how can I resist?”

 

Kakashi keeps their strolls unpredictable, only showing up on nights he knows are exceptionally tough and offers himself as a distraction. He punctuates their encounters with polite greetings as they pass by one another during the hustle of the day and in their brief interactions in the Mission Room. Outside of that, they don’t talk and it envelops the idea of their midnight encounters in a secretive cloak that hints toward something _more._ Kakashi would rather shamelessly monopolize all of Iruka’s time, but it would spoil the fun.

It isn’t long until Iruka begins to wait for him to show up, restless and pacing until he spots Kakashi and relaxes. On those days, Kakashi’s heart never stops its feverish gallop.

Kakashi builds another nightmare, this one sinister with the information he’s gained straight from Iruka, the Academy teacher offering small details about his demons during each walk. He implants it in Iruka’s head during their ninth stroll.

Iruka rubs his eyes and Kakashi knows a headache is blossoming in the back of his head, his mind protesting Kakashi’s abuse. Kakashi is proud he resisted kissing Iruka this time.

“Ah, look, Iruka. The cat is back.” The cat, a tubby calico, takes off from her usual perch on the trash bins, disappearing down an alley with a haughty flick of her tail.

“It’ll keep coming back if Genma keeps feeding her,” Iruka grumbles, tapering off into a yawn. “Nevermind the policy against pets.”

Kakashi feels a surge of jealousy at the name of the other jounin and he clenches his fists, jaw grinding. He knows Genma frequents the Mission Room and thereby has to interact with Iruka, but it does nothing to soothe his spite. Iruka is his and his alone; anyone who dares stand in his way will be removed. He has done so before and has no compunctions about doing it again.

“If you’re yawning, you’re tired enough to sleep, sensei. It’s almost four. We should return.”

Iruka touches the scar across his nose. “You may have a point, Kakashi. I’m exhausted.”

Kakashi will never get tired of hearing Iruka say his name. He herds Iruka back home, occasionally allowing his hand to rest along Iruka’s lower back in the guise of keeping him steady. At Iruka’s complex, Kakashi comes to a stop.

“I’ll see you around, Kakashi,” Iruka mutters sleepily, giving Kakashi a sweet smile as he heads towards the stairs.

Kakashi wants to risk professing his love again, heart full to bursting, but deleting more memories would harm Iruka and that’s the last thing he wants to do. “Not for a while, sensei. I have a month long mission starting tomorrow afternoon.”

Iruka recoils. “ _What_? Oh. That’s a long time.”

Kakashi doesn’t miss the look of disappointment that flashes across Iruka’s face, the disquiet in his voice. Iruka has come to depend on his presence to avoid the demons in his mind, just as Kakashi intended. “Unfortunately. I’ll be seeing you, sensei. Take care.” Once more, he reaches over and plants a hand on Iruka’s shoulder, squeezing lightly before moving away. Iruka doesn’t flinch this time, accustomed to brief touches.

“Yes. Stay safe.”

Iruka turns to go but pauses on the first step, body angled towards Kakashi, obviously wanting to say something. Kakashi doesn’t let him, parting with his customary wave and smile.

Hearing Iruka trudge up the stairs and shut the door behind him, Kakashi’s smile widens.


	2. Vidi

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Edited by HazelBeka, but then I went in and fucked everything up again ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯ present tense is hard, yo

“I've never known myself as well as I know myself when I'm with him.”  
― Will Graham, _Hannibal_

 

The gates of Konoha come into view and Kakashi breathes a heavy sigh of relief.

Ears ringing dully from the constant whine of cicadas, he tiredly blinks sweat and dirt from his exposed eye. The sun bares down on him harshly as it has for the last few days, sapping the remainder of his strength with each step as the gates loom closer. He drags the back of his gloved hand across his forehead and readjusts his hitai-ate, keeping the Sharingan firmly hidden.

Luck is in his favor and he managed to shorten his mission from a solid month to three weeks, allowing Kakashi a while to himself before Tsunade inevitably discovers his return and summons him to her office with another mission.

Body bruised and wounded, stomach empty, his only thought is to see Iruka. He had spent the entirety of the mission thinking about the Academy sensei and counting down the minutes until their reunion. His admittedly concerning appearance convinces him to go home first and make himself presentable. He doesn’t want to scare Iruka off.

The sentry at the gate recognizes him and dashes out of his box to meet him, producing a scroll from inside his flak jacket. “Jounin-sama! Another letter arrived for you!” He slows to a stop before Kakashi, and peers down at the letter in question. “Though it has a different name, is that-”

“Code name.” Kakashi snatches the letter, excitement eating away at his fatigue at the thought of seeing Iruka so soon and with a perfectly normal reason. He tucks the scroll inside his flak jacket and brushes past the boy. Pausing mid-step, he turns back to the terrified sentry, taking pity on him. “Thanks. Good work.”

The sentry blinks at him owlishly. “Y-yea.”

 

Kakashi walks home.

He would teleport to save time, but he refuses to exacerbate the hefty chakra depletion he is already suffering; as a rule, he needs to reserve enough to deal with any emergency effectively. Given his current tendencies, that threshold has risen.

Within the walls of his compound, he showers hastily, scrubbing week-old dirt and grim from his pale body. After a cursory inspection of his wounds, Kakashi deems them not life-threatening and doesn’t bother patching up the weeping cuts along his torso and back. The pain is inconsequential, muted against the ache at being far from Iruka for so long. Parting from his usual shinobi gear, he opts for something more casual and slips on a navy standard-issue shirt and a matching mask. He keeps his kunai pouch and pops a soldier pill and is on his way.

Kakashi arrives at Iruka’s complex faster than intended, his sore muscles complaining about the added abuse. He slips into a lazy slouch against the door frame and knocks twice and hears soft footsteps come towards him.

The door swings open and Kakashi’s greeting dies in his throat as his heart works itself into a frenzy, elated. Iruka greets him with a brilliant smile, stepping aside to usher Kakashi in.

“Kakashi, you’re back early! Please, come in!”

Kakashi struggles for air and gives a short nod. The joy of seeing Iruka dies instantly as he detects a forced quality in Iruka’s tone. Alarm cleaves through his fatigue and triggers his battle-honed instincts as he figures Iruka has discovered his actions and is upset with him. Rapidly, his mind runs through a bevy of responses to mitigate the fallout, assessing which would place him in the most favorable light and appeal to Iruka's more emotional nature. He calculates the amount of chakra to use in the event Iruka resists.

“It’s been awhile, but I’m back. And as a messenger, again,” he manages, slipping the scroll from his back pocket and holds it up with his index and middle finger.

Iruka’s eyes zero in on the paper; they lack their usual radiance. “Oh! Another letter from Naruto?”

Kakashi hands it over. Without any preamble, Iruka sits down to read hungrily.

Annoyed at having been set aside for the moment, Kakashi observes the chuunin closely. Iruka’s eyes are hooded, ringed with the dark purple that haunts insomniacs, and there’s a slight dip to his cheeks that hints towards weight loss. The nightmares are taking their brutal toll.

As Iruka is occupied, Kakashi heads to the kitchen to make Iruka’s tea, his body live-wire tense and ears perked for any off sound. His right hand digs around his kunai pouch, sliding to the very bottom where it retrieves a small package that he puts aside as he sets water to boil. His eyes narrow.

He’ll let the first move be Iruka’s to reveal the extent of the damage and then he’ll adjust strategy accordingly. Calmly, Kakashi prepares the tea as his mind works furiously fast to flesh out a map of possibilities, swapping variables with each new scenario.

Iruka remains quiet in the living room.

Kakashi opens the package and dumps half of the contents into a blue mug. It's impossible for Iruka to hide anything from him; Kakashi knows him too well. If this was a set-up, Iruka would have confronted him the moment he opened the door, wild and angry. He would’ve discovered Kakashi’s other transgressions and secured a squadron of high-ranking ANBU to apprehend him.

Kakashi’s fingers twitch as he holds a spoon, running a fingertip along the blunt end. That scenario would end in absolute bloodshed. He isn’t terribly interested in killing off several ANBU, especially with his current injuries and chakra depletion, but he would do it for Iruka’s sake. He has plenty of contingency plans for defecting from Konoha, regardless.

Finished, Kakashi pours and stirs, watching the liquid swirl and darken. Though, not all battles need to be physical. Erasing almost a month’s worth of memories remains a viable option, albeit one with unknown consequences and pitfalls. He offhandedly wonders if he can create replacement memories and is intrigued, resolving to thoroughly examine the idea later.

Returning, he hands the cup to Iruka and sits down next to him. He widens his stance, lifting his leg to rest his ankle on his knee. A small, painful twinge reminds him of his wounds and keeps him on edge.

Iruka absentmindedly gives a small nod of thanks and sets the cup down without drinking, a wry smile arching his lips as he continues to read. “His handwriting is getting better, but his sense of humor is just as crass.”

“Being around Lord Jiraiya certainly can’t help,” Kakashi adds, eyeing the living room window and the buildings behind it. He knows exactly how great of a vantage point the rooftops across the street are.

“The porn writer? You don’t say.” Iruka carefully folds the letter, setting it down gingerly. He looks forlorn. “Ah, I miss him. I miss him so much. You’d think I’d be glad to have him off my hands, but it’s the opposite.” He sighs with a deep exhaustion, shoulders drooping.

Kakashi is prepared for the jealousy. He lets it hit him and burn unpleasantly before he ignores it. Soon enough, he will be the sole focus for Iruka. “You practically reared him. It’s natural to suffer a bit of empty-nest syndrome.”

“Gods, I wasn’t his _father._ More like his overbearing big brother.”

“He may be visiting Konoha soon. Picked up some interesting intel on my way in,” Kakashi replies, relaxing a degree. Iruka is showing no signs of knowing his true intentions and just seems tired. Kakashi leans back on the couch, stretching out an arm along the back support. He rests a hand near his kunai pouch, deceptively nonchalant.  

Iruka turns to him quickly, eyes wide. “Really? He’s coming back?”

Iruka’s eagerness further dissipates Kakashi’s suspicion and he gives a small smile. “For a visit, yes. Maybe he’ll be delivering his next letter personally.”

Iruka looks thoughtful for a moment. “I wonder why you keep getting my letters. There’s no way they could be confusing us, and I hate that you keep having to bring them to me.”

Kakashi hums, choosing his next words carefully. “Either way, it still gets to you. I don’t mind. I like your company.”

Iruka’s eyelashes flicker and his cheeks flush a rosy color and Kakashi is bewitched. He’s struck with the sudden compulsion to pull Iruka into a smoldering kiss and has to look away to reign himself back in. Kakashi quickly decides it’s best if he leaves lest he be forced to erase Iruka’s memory again; in any case, the more Iruka struggles with his thoughts about Kakashi, the better the outcome.

“Oh, um, I really enjoy your company as well, Kakashi.” Iruka tilts his chin down to hide his face, busying himself by picking up his mug and taking a sip.

Kakashi watches him keenly.

Iruka blinks rapidly, glancing down at his cup. “Is this-?”

“Gyokuro,” Kakashi fills in. “I found a merchant during my mission and I bought some. It’s not to my taste, but I thought you’d like it.”

The look Iruka gives him is worth more than anything he could have said, short of professing his own love for Kakashi. He had bought the tea with the intention to demonstrate he was thinking about Iruka while he’s away and to show he can provide for them. It was proving to be worth the arm and leg it cost.

Iruka stays silent, a flurry of emotions darting across his face, too quick for Kakashi to parse without the Sharingan. Tonguing a canine, Kakashi hedges his bets. “In any case, I think I will be heading out. I haven’t had a decent meal in a month.” Kakashi stands and sets down the package of remaining green tea leaves on the small coffee table in front of Iruka and makes his way to the door, counting down in his mind. “Goodbye, Iruka.”

“Wait, Kakashi!”

Kakashi grins viciously and lets it drop as he turns halfway, hand on the door knob. “Yes, sensei?” Kakashi blinks curiously at the horrified look on Iruka’s face and his outstretched hand, a peculiar strangling sound coming from Iruka’s mouth.

“Kakashi, you’re _bleeding_!”

Glancing down dumbly, Kakashi sees that blood that has seeped into his shirt. He’s unconcerned with the amount as a rush of warmth rolls through him. Iruka is _worried_ for _him_ ! Iruka _cares_ for _him!_ Kakashi touches the slice on top of his sternum and studies the blood that comes away on his fingertips. “Oops. I returned from my mission about an hour ago, it’s nothing. It barely even hurts.”

Iruka makes another garbled sound and pinches the bridge of his nose. “Kakashi, that’s not the point! You’re injured!”

“It’s not even the worse one,” Kakashi supplies purposefully, watching Iruka snap.

“ _Not the worse_ -again, not the point! Just let me...gah!” Iruka marches over and snatches his wrist, dragging him back to the couch where he demands Kakashi sit and stay still. He storms out of the room and returns with a medical scroll, lips pressed in a thin line.

“Iruka, it’s not that bad,” Kakashi says, amused. He smiles crookedly at the glare Iruka aims at him, heart in his throat. Only the sting of his cuts grounds Kakashi against the threat of this being an elaborate hallucination his mind conjured up to torture him.

Iruka drops down beside him and opens the scroll on the table, mindful of Kakashi’s gift. He thumbs off some of Kakashi’s blood and opens the seals, summoning an array of medical supplies that Kakashi notes are not part of the standard medical scroll inventory. With a quirked brow, he watches Iruka remove a handful of gauze, medical tape, a suture set, and alcohol swabs. He snaps on latex gloves with clinical efficiency and twists his body to face Kakashi. “Shirt off,” Iruka orders brusquely.

Kakashi can’t resist. “Oh sensei, what will the neighbors think?” Clasping a hand to the opposite shoulder, Kakashi pulls his shirt up and over his head, hungrily eating up the way Iruka’s eyes roam over his torso. His smirk twists into a grimace as Iruka ducks in and prods his wounds with one of the alcohol wipes, none too kindly.

“I don’t care what the neighbors think, I care about you bleeding out on my carpet!” Iruka growls, drawing back and opening more wipes. He dumps the used ones on the table, red stark against white. “I know jounins can be blasé about taking care of themselves, but this is borderline neglectful. What if it was getting infected? What if you were bleeding internally? What if you walked out of here and exsanguinated in some alley?”

Kakashi tilts to the side and raises an arm to give Iruka more access to the nasty cut running up his battered ribs. “It would be a problem until it’s not,” he quips, shutting his mouth at Iruka’s scathing scowl and the vein bulging at his temple. Kakashi is internally ecstatic. The swell of love in his chest threatens to bleed out through his wounds and Kakashi keeps silent, focusing on stabilizing his heart rate and refraining from doing anything rash.

Iruka works silently and professionally despite the obvious weariness lining his face. Eventually, Iruka’s aggressive care softens, becoming gentle. “Was it a bad mission?” he asks quietly, taping down a bandage on Kakashi’s bicep before picking up the suture kit that glows as he collects chakra in his hands.

“Not exceptionally.”

“Had to be if they injured the great Copy-nin.”

“My pride, it hurts.”

“Not as much as these, I hope.”

Sensing an opportunity, Kakashi captures Iruka’s hand and holds it over the larger slice Iruka is stitching shut with a chakra-infused needle. He rubs his thumb over the back Iruka’s hand in slow sweep, light enough for the touch to seem incidental. “Iruka, I’m fine, I promise. I’m used to this.”

Iruka looks troubled as he gazes down at their hands and Kakashi lets go, anticipating Iruka’s next inquiry. “Why not go to the hospital?”

Kakashi lets Iruka’s question hover in the air for a moment, as if he were struggling to answer. “Been there too much. Bad experiences.” Iruka’s hands then travel to Kakashi’s back, wiping away dried blood and rubbing salve on the smaller nicks. Kakashi’s eye nearly shuts at his delicate touch, easily picturing the gesture as a caress.

Iruka’s voice is soft. “Who helps you when you can’t reach?”

If it’s something that severe, Kakashi is most certainly in the hospital. Regardless, he plays it up. “I usually manage.”

Iruka’s hands stall. He inhales slowly, the sound raising the hairs on Kakashi’s neck. “If...if it’s something that bad, and you refuse to go to the hospital, I’ll help you. Just come here. Come to me.”

Kakashi swears the air has gone out of the room. Not trusting his voice, he nods.

 

The next time they meet, it’s Iruka who surprises Kakashi once more.

In the middle of the street, surrounded by the murmur of street vendors peddling their produce, Kakashi waits, adrenaline bubbling in his veins from the moment Iruka calls out his name.

Iruka meets his gaze evenly, his grip tightening on the basket in his hands as his shoulders straighten. “Do you like ramen, Kakashi-san?”

 

At Iruka’s sudden question, Kakashi wholeheartedly believed they would venture to Ichiraku’s together and he would have a chance to sit down and eat with Iruka as if they were on a date. He was determined to enjoy the moment and fantasize about their future together, but Iruka annihilated his expectations and handed him something much more precious.

Kakashi stares at the steaming bowl of homemade ramen in front of him as Iruka retreats to his seat across the table. Kakashi can scarcely trust he isn’t actually dreaming this time. He sniffs again, stomach growling at the smell.

Iruka glances up at him and then picks at a splinter of wood on the table, his eyes still ringed with purple. “I know it’s not much, but I can do this at least.”

Kakashi waves a hand. “Sensei, don’t sell yourself short. This looks incredible. I didn’t know you knew how to cook.” He really didn’t and it bothers him. He surmises Iruka either taught himself in lieu of his parents or as a way to feed Naruto.

Iruka digs into his bowl studiously. “Just basic things. Can you cook?”

“Ah, no. I never had the opportunity to learn between missions.” He would learn, if Iruka wished. He would cook banquets for him.

Iruka looks saddened. “Let me guess. Take-out?”

Kakashi waits for Iruka to look away before scooping up some noodles and tugging down his mask to eat. He chews thoughtfully and plans to one day reveal the secrets of his life to Iruka. “Convenient and tasteful. Though, I will say it pales in comparison to this. My compliments to the chef,” he offers with a wink.

“Like I said, it’s not much. I can do better next time.” Iruka smiles, rubbing his scar as a flush darkens his cheeks.

The promise of another dinner halt’s Kakashi’s cognitive abilities and he nearly bites his tongue off while chewing. It takes all of his willpower not to haul Iruka across the table and kiss him soundly. Needing a distraction, Kakashi eats with gusto, offering small compliments that pinken Iruka’s ears. Midway through, he sets his chopsticks down.

“If I may, I have a question.”

Iruka nibbles on the end of his chopsticks and looks at him curiously. “Yes?”

“It doesn’t look like you’ve been sleeping.”

Iruka fails to hide his wince and sets his chopsticks across his bowl. “That’s not a question,” he mutters defensively.

“Alright. _Why_ haven’t you been sleeping?”

“Hardly a good conversation to be having while eating,” Iruka deflects.

“Not one I want to be having at all.”

Iruka looks off to the side, avoiding Kakashi’s gaze. “Nightmares. I can’t sleep.”

Kakashi appears effortlessly startled. “Still?”

“Yes. Unfortunately.”

“The one with the Nine-tails?”

“...no. Not this time.”

Genuinely startled, Kakashi cocks his head minutely. The nightmares he’d constructed focus solely on the Nine-tails and the murder of Iruka’s family; have they mutated?

“This one is about Naruto. I keep having it, nearly every night. I’m afraid to even try sleeping,” Iruka confesses, placing his elbows on the table and resting his chin on his interlocked fingers. He seems to sag, as if a heavy weight is dragging him down.

“Naruto? Why?”

Iruka shrugs, the gesture too forced to be casual. “It’s not about my parents, if that’s what you’re thinking. It’s about Naruto and how I used to treat him. How some treat him still. Only, there’s no happy ending. Naruto finds no one to accept him and...” Iruka trails off, swallowing heavily. He is silent for a long moment, his jaw tense as he stares a hole into the table. “I see a little boy being shunned by the world. It destroys him and he shuns the world back. He becomes like Gaara. And it’s not only my family that ends up killed.”

Kakashi doesn’t speak, absorbing. He’s not quite sure how to help if the nightmares have mutated out of his initial idea, but he would do anything for Iruka. He begins to construct something pleasant, taking care to recreate himself in this new scenario. He _did_ promised to save Iruka from the monsters, after all.

“I told you it wasn’t appropriate,” Iruka quips at his silence, a humorless smile on his face. He’s gone pale, the pain still raw.

“I’m glad you told me,” Kakashi interrupts, “so I can tell you that it’s utter bullshit.” Iruka looks taken aback and Kakashi continues, “You would never leave him to turn out like Gaara. You simply aren’t built that way. You’re compassionate to a fault.”

Iruka blinks rapidly, a tell-tale sheen to his eyes. “But I did. You can’t deny that. I ostracized him. I turned a blind eye while he suffered and was complicit in his abuse. I was supposed to help him, but I helped make it _worse_.”

Kakashi adopts a steel edge to his tone, unwilling to let Iruka belittle himself. “You did, and you became the first person to acknowledge Naruto as a human and not a Jinchuriki. You risked your own life to save him and now you can think of little else when I bring a letter from him. Sandaime would have never let you go down that path.” Kakashi meaningfully tilts his head. “And neither would I.”

Iruka’s brown eyes widen, swimming with emotion. His throat works and he bows his head, hands fisting in his lap. His shoulders begin to shake as he tries to bite back a sob, and Kakashi smiles. Iruka is beautiful even when his heart aches; Kakashi waits for the day those tears are purely for him.

Kakashi removes his hitai-ate and pulls down his mask as he stands and heads over to Iruka. Lifting Iruka’s chin with a gentle hand, Kakashi tenderly wipes away the salty tracks with his thumbs, consuming the wonder and slight hesitation in Iruka’s eyes as he gazes up at Kakashi. Cradling Iruka’s face reverently, Kakashi dips down and kisses him, using his angle to delve deeply into Iruka’s mouth, moving slowly.

Iruka is frozen beneath him, offering no resistance as Kakashi tastes him thoroughly. A brief twitch from Iruka’s lips fills Kakashi with blinding happiness; Iruka is accepting him! Emboldened, Kakashi coaxes him to kiss back, sliding his tongue along Iruka’s and drawing it into his mouth. He nips Iruka’s bottom lip reproachfully when Iruka doesn’t kiss back.

Kakashi then opens his eyes and uses that moment to embed the new dream into Iruka’s mind. Iruka’s eyes harden and Kakashi ends the kiss on a chaste note. He pulls back an inch but doesn’t step away, waiting for Iruka’s reaction.

“Hatake-san,” Iruka begins, his tone oddly cold, “I am in a very vulnerable state right now. You have absolutely _no right_ to take advantage of-”

Kakashi heart thuds painfully in his chest as he flashes the hand signs and reaches for Iruka.

Iruka’s eyes fill with animalistic panic and he lifts a hand in defense. “Wait, _don’t_!” Iruka’s battle instincts rapidly take over and he twists Kakashi’s hand away from him, a kunai appearing in his free hand and whistling towards Kakashi’s throat. “Get away from me!”

Effortlessly, Kakashi parries the knife and blocks a knee aiming for his stomach. A muscle in Kakashi’s jaw ticks. “Iruka, _calm down._ ” He reverses Iruka’s grip on his hand and slams it down on the edge of the table, targeting the thin bones of his wrist.

Iruka drops the kunai with a pained cry and brings up his leg and jams his heel into Kakashi’s chest, throwing himself backward and landing on his feet as the chair clatters to the floor. He retreats a few steps, drawing up a two kunai with explosive tags attached and pointing them at Kakashi. _“What the fuck is wrong with you!?”_

Kakashi bites back a growl of pain and grins. “Not very smart, sensei.” Before Iruka can drop into a defensive stance or launch a counterattack, Kakashi is beside him, sweeping out a leg towards Iruka’s ankles and planting a hand on Iruka’s chest to slam him to the ground. Iruka’s face crumples in surprise and pain as he lands, and he is left breathless as Kakashi disarms him, tossing his weapons out of reach.

As fast as the lightning he is known for, Kakashi settles his weight strategically on Iruka’s thighs and seizes Iruka’s wrists to pin them by his head, rendering him immobile. He leans in close, dropping his gaze to Iruka’s lips before dragging it up to meet Iruka’s eyes.

“Sensei, you know I love you,” he croons lowly, excitement bubbling in his gut at the sight of Iruka beneath him. His cock stirs, taking notice. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

Iruka bucks sharply, fear replacing anger. “Kakashi. Kakashi, _please_ , I-"

Transferring Iruka’s wrists to one hand, Kakashi stretches the limbs high above Iruka’s head, noting with fascination as Iruka’s chest rises towards him with the movement. He pictures the flex of sinewy muscle underneath him and swallows the saliva that pools in his mouth. Lovingly, he brushes loose strands of hair away from Iruka’s face and tucks them behind his ear, reinforcing his one-handed grip with chakra as Iruka continues to struggle. “Sensei, just a little longer. A little more and it will be okay. I’m doing this for us. I love you,” he says soothingly, placing his palm on Iruka’s forehead. “And I know you love me, too.”

“Kakashi, don’t do this, please, _I’m beg-_ ” The fear is wiped clean from Iruka’s face and he goes blank, eyes unfocusing and sliding shut. His head drops down with a _thunk._

Kakashi can’t resist pressing his nose to Iruka’s temple and inhaling deeply. Without his mask as a filter, he can taste Iruka’s addictive scent on his tongue and shivers. He trails his nose down to Iruka’s scarred one, bumping it lightly as he closes his own eyes against the burn of the Sharingan. “Soon, everything will be as it should,” he whispers fervently. “I promise.”

Releasing his hold, he plants a hand on the floor to brace his weight as he hovers over Iruka. Kakashi lazily maps out the curves of Iruka’s face tactually, dragging his fingertips along Iruka’s jaw and the bones of his cheeks, tracing his thumb over the ridge of Iruka’s scar and the divot above his upper lip. He brushes the pad of his thumb over Iruka’s eyebrows and eyelids, feeling them flutter beneath his touch.

“You’re perfect for me.”

In the thousands of missions he’s completed and his countless journeys across the world, Kakashi has never met anyone who comes close to rivaling Iruka’s appeal to him. No one, man or woman, has seized Kakashi’s attention so fully, so all-consumingly other than Iruka. Without him, Kakashi would be lost, living with a hollow feeling in his heart that would never be filled, forever empty and black. That Kakashi would perish under the weight of his own loneliness, crushed with despair, perhaps even taking the same route as his father.

But that Kakashi does not exist, if the beating heart under his hand is of any indication. He has found love and will cherish it until his dying breath. Though, if something happens to Iruka, Kakashi fears what he will do, knowing what he is capable of. Even he can’t predict that.

Picking up one of Iruka’s limp hands, Kakashi kisses the fragile skin of his wrists, pressing forgiveness into the bruise that is forming; the violence is a means to an end. It is true that he doesn’t want to hurt Iruka, but it is necessary or Iruka will hurt himself.

Iruka didn’t fight him until Kakashi triggered his battle reflexes; it’s a vast improvement when compared to the first time he kissed Iruka. The seed of attraction was planted and is blooming beautifully. It won’t be long until Iruka capitulates to his feelings and confesses to Kakashi, a scenario that has Kakashi’s heart beating double time, overwhelmed with love. He withdraws, barely acknowledging how tight his pants are.

Righting Iruka’s chair and tugging the unconscious chuunin back to the table, Kakashi swiftly cleans up the remains of their dinner and scribbles a short goodbye note for Iruka, signing off with a henohenomoheji. He sets it atop another package of tea leaves in Iruka’s cupboard for him to discover and fret about later.

Finally, Kakashi patiently guides Iruka out of the chair and to the bedroom, perfunctorily stripping and dressing him in his preferred sleep clothes before pulling back the sheets and tucking Iruka into bed. He presses a fond kiss to Iruka’s parted lips, stealing one last kiss. “Sweet dreams,” he whispers.

On his way out, he stops by the kitchen one more time.

 

Iruka spots him waiting in line and smiles, the barest hint of a flush on his cheeks.

Kakashi watches his routine falter, eyes darting to and fleeing from Kakashi’s gaze as he manages to approve several mission scrolls without looking at them.

Kakashi can feel the atmosphere charge between them as he steps forward. He ignores the prying gazes of the other shinobi, sight fixated only on Iruka.

“Sensei,” he greets with a hidden smirk.

Iruka angles towards him, a twinkle in his eye. “Kakashi- _san_ , welcome back. You seem to be in good health.”

Kakashi shrugs with one shoulder. “Still in one piece.” Kakashi hands him the incomplete mission scroll, firmly brushing Iruka’s hand.

Iruka jumps imperceptibly. He manages to control the blush on his cheeks but his ears burn red. He stamps the scroll. “Thank you. For your work,” he stutters. “Please get some rest.”

Kakashi finds it hard to keep the grin off his face for the rest of the day.

 

His next trip to the Mission Room lets him see a familiar shinobi in Iruka’s place.

Kakashi hands his scroll off curtly, mildly put off.

The replacement shinobi stamps it quickly, not as dedicated as Iruka. “Looks good, jounin-sama. Keep up the hard work.”

Kakashi hides his disdain. “Who knew the day would come that Umino-sensei would take a vacation,” he begins slyly, “I didn’t take him for the sort.”

The shinobi -Kotetsu, Kakashi recalls suddenly- laughs. “Iruka? Oh yea. Nah, he’s out sick.”

“Sick? Had to be pretty bad to keep him from working,” Kakashi searches, his jaw grinding at Kotetsu’s casual use of Iruka’s name. He had seen this one around Iruka regularly, always pestering him and dragging him to shinobi bars, prompting Kakashi to follow them to keep Iruka safe and away from others who didn’t deserve his attention. He resists grabbing the chunnin and snapping his neck like a twig.

“He was here yesterday but I switched shifts with him. Why are-”

“Thanks,” Kakashi interjects flatly, leaving.

A visit to the Academy corroborates Kotetsu’s explanation and Kakashi hums.


	3. Vici

“See? This is all I ever wanted for you, Will. For both of us."

―Hannibal Lecter, _Hannibal_

Kakashi settles on visiting a day later and makes two stops along his way.

Knocking on Iruka’s door with a single knuckle, he waits for a minute before knocking again. Hearing no response but sensing Iruka inside, Kakashi discreetly picks the lock and bypasses Iruka’s wards. Pausing at the entrance, he pulls his mask down, sniffing the air and smelling a fevered sweetness that hints towards sickness. A small smile plays at his lips.

He puts on his most concerned tone as he toes off his sandals and shuts the door behind him, locking it. “Iruka? Are you home?” Kakashi sets the bags of take-out down on the kitchen table and glances around, noting the messy pile of un-graded paperwork on the coffee table and the slight droop to Iruka's plants.

He hears a small groan from the direction of Iruka’s bedroom and takes it as an invitation. Grinning wickedly, Kakashi removes his flak jacket and adjusts his mask as he heads to Iruka, the scent of sweat and illness thickening. He passes by a small hallway bathroom and the second bedroom Iruka usually reserves for Naruto. He enters the last room on his left.

Iruka is curled up in the middle of his bed, shivering despite the layers of blankets on top of him. He sluggishly stirs at Kakashi’s arrival, eyes hazy and cheeks burning red. Loose, sweat-soaked locks stick to his skin and Kakashi suddenly knows exactly what Iruka would look like in the middle of sex. He drinks the sight in, arousal curling low in his stomach as he approaches the bed.

“Ka...shi?” Iruka murmurs, trying to sit up with trembling arms. Weakly, he falters and Kakashi catches him, pressing his clothed nose to Iruka’s temple. Iruka whimpers, a hand coming up to grab Kakashi’s arm, fisting the material of his sleeve.

Iruka is scorching hot beneath his thin shirt and his sheets are damp, revealing a long battle with a raging fever. Kakashi touches their foreheads together and measures Iruka’s temperature, satisfied at the result.

He meets Iruka’s wavering gaze headon. “Iruka, listen to me, you have a fever. Do you understand?” Kakashi doesn’t know how much longer Iruka will remain lucid, but he knows the effects will last for a few more days, leaving Iruka’s life solely in his hands. This would be the most demanding step to his plan, but one Kakashi has looked forward to since its conception.

Iruka blinks slowly. “...fever...duh,” he grunts, closing his eyes and letting Kakashi hold him up.

“Have you eaten anything?” He can tell by Iruka’s chapped lips that he’s dehydrated, having sweat away all the water in his body.

Iruka’s eyes flutter open. “No.”

“Have you called a doctor?”

Iruka stares off into space for a while before coming back to himself and giving Kakashi a quiet, “...no.”

“How long have you been sick?”

“I don’t feel good,” Iruka says pitifully, shrugging off his questions.

Clasping Iruka to his chest, Kakashi frees his hands and summons a clone. He directs it to hide and keep vigil outside, aware that Iruka’s popularity could draw in well-wishers and sympathy visits at any moment; his clone will persuade them otherwise, leaving nothing in Kakashi’s way.

This will be their time together, wholly uninterrupted.

Kakashi playfully cards his fingers through Iruka’s hair, mindful of the knots. “Iruka, you have to eat something.”

Iruka feebly shakes his head, smushing his face into Kakashi’s shoulder. “Not hungry.”

“Still, we need to keep your energy up,” Kakashi says patiently, tucking a strand of hair behind Iruka’s ear and running his thumb along the edge of the shell.

“I need to grade.”

Kakashi lets Iruka fumble out of his grip and crumple onto the floor of his bedroom where he sits in his boxers and shirt, confused. “What was I doing?” He blinks up at Kakashi, awareness flickering in and out of his eyes. “Kakashi?”

Kakashi drops down beside him and tugs Iruka sideways into his lap where he can feel the other shudder. “That doesn’t matter. All that matters is that I’m here, and I’m going to take care of you. You’re sick, Iruka. And I’m the only one that can help you.” 

Iruka’s nose scrunches as an argument forms and fades away, leaving him fatigued. His head droops forward and Kakashi tightens his grip. “My head hurts.”

“I’ll make it go away,” Kakashi promises fiercely. “I love you.”

Sliding his palm along Iruka’s jaw, he brings them into a kiss. Ignoring the dry chafe of Iruka’s lips, his tongue dips into Iruka’s mouth, tasting Iruka’s feverish heat and exploring him with slow, languid sweeps. Iruka tries to talk and Kakashi snakes a hand down to Iruka’s neck, spanning its width and tilting Iruka’s chin up with his thumb to deepen the kiss. Iruka goes pliant and opens his mouth wider, allowing Kakashi to brand him with his tongue and memorize the feel of him.

He parts once Iruka’s lips are swollen and slick with saliva and he’s sure Iruka can taste nothing but him.

Dazed, Iruka eyelashes flutter open, his balance teetering. He reaches up, fingertips skimming his mouth with a feather-light touch as his tongue peeks out and moistens his bottom lip.

Kakashi struggles to remember how to breath, wondering how he managed to survive for so long without _this_ , without Iruka in his arms, without knowing how it felt to hold and kiss Iruka and give his love freely. Awestruck, Kakashi takes hold of Iruka’s hand and spreads his fingers out, softly kissing each finger pad. He drops a lingering kiss onto Iruka’s palm and nuzzles the warm skin, his lips curling in a small smile. Iruka has made him indescribably happy in such a short time and Kakashi knows he’ll spend the rest of his life bringing that same joy to Iruka, no matter what it takes.

Pressing their foreheads together again, Kakashi lets the Sharingan spin, absorbing the mosaic of colors in Iruka’s irises.  “You’re mine. You know that, right? No one can have you but me. I’ll kill them.”

Iruka doesn’t reply, eyes half-mast as he stares at Kakashi vacantly. Sweat beads at Iruka’s temple and Kakashi remembers the food.

Manipulating Iruka’s body so that his legs circle Kakashi’s waist, Kakashi stands, clutching Iruka to him securely. Iruka grabs at his shoulders and tightens his legs weakly, coming back enough to mumble incoherently. Rubbing Iruka’s back soothingly, Kakashi carries him to the kitchen and sets him down in a chair.

Iruka lists to the side and Kakashi snatches him, tutting. “Iruka, hold on to me. I won’t let you fall, but you have to hold on.”

Iruka obediently grasps at his shirt and presses his forehead into Kakashi’s side, resting as the little bit of energy he has vanishes. Kakashi lets his fingers run along Iruka’s nape, reveling in the trust Iruka has in him. It’s incredible to be able to touch him candidly, unconcerned with needing to wipe Iruka’s memories or adhering to his plan; in this moment, only he and Iruka matter.

Removing a bottle of water from the take-out bags, he takes a swig. Keeping it in his mouth, he ducks and presses his lips to Iruka, letting the water flow out.

Startled, Iruka’s eyes shoot open and he swallows reflexively, water dribbling out of the corners of his mouth. Kakashi kisses him soundly before doing it again and again until he’s satisfied Iruka has had enough and steps away, adjusting his mask.

Coughing now, Iruka shakes his head, rubbing away the water gathering at his chin. His eyes clear for a moment, landing on Kakashi and widening. “Kakashi? What are you doing here?” he rasps.

Kakashi pauses, placing a bowl of ramen down on his side of the table, leaving a wide berth between them; the picture of innocence. “You called me over?” he says, voice tilting perfectly from confusion to concern. “You said you felt sick and asked if I could bring some Ichiraku’s.”

“I...I did?”

Kakashi nods, removing another bowl from the bag and pulling off the plastic cover. Steam rose in small puffs. “I brought your favorite.”

Iruka gazes down at the food, bewildered. Kakashi can see glimpses of suspicion arising and knows Iruka is aware _something_ is off. Snippets of the past hour would be floating around in his thoughts, tinged with the possibility that they’re nothing more than febrile hallucinations. Iruka’s lack of accusations speaks volumes and Kakashi steadies himself against a wave of arrogant satisfaction.

“I just bought it, it’s still warm,” and, with a trace of hesitancy, “I can leave it here and go, if you want. I don’t mean to intrude.”

Iruka flails at that, his polite disposition overtaking his doubt. “No-no, it’s fine. I just feel...off.” He rubs his forehead, brushing his hair out of his face as chills set in. “You’re right, I probably did call you over. Thank you. For this. You didn’t need to.”

The corner of Kakashi’s mouth curves up, hidden beneath his mask. “Of course. I’m glad you thought to call me.”

“I hope you weren’t busy,” Iruka says quietly, rubbing the back of his neck. “I just don’t know why I didn’t call Kotetsu or Izumo over.”

The ugly beast of jealousy rears its head and Kakashi savagely bites it down, tasting acid. Iruka would have called the other chuunin over out of habit, not out of dismissal for him. He would’ve been too shy to call Kakashi out for something so trivial, it’s understandable. He lets his next words sit on his tongue, weighing them for impact.

“That sounds like a polite way of kicking me out, sensei.” It’s not difficult to sound hurt. “I don’t want you to stress, so I’ll go. I’ll see if Kotetsu or Izumo can keep an eye on you.” Kakashi briefly considers the option of cloning himself again and mimicking the chuunin. Unfortunately, he hasn’t conducted enough recon on either chuunin to copy them perfectly; he would be forced to actually reach out to them. It would require massive adjustments to compensate for the setback, and as distasteful as the thought was, he would comply.

He could only cage Iruka so much.

It pains him to admit it, but Iruka will never survive with him alone; Iruka thrives because of the bonds and connections he has to the people of Konoha and the Will of Fire he curated and passed on to Naruto. To remove him from the roots of life he has grown, would be akin to subjecting him to a slow death. Although Kakashi logically knows Iruka needs to remain connected to his friends to be happy, Kakashi can’t help the constant, insidious planning in the back of his mind that outlines new pieces for him to move, endlessly strategizing to break Iruka of his bonds and to replace them with _only_ Kakashi. He would become Iruka’s world, as Iruka is for him.

The thoughts are tempting, viciously seductive, and Kakashi abstains by a short margin.

Iruka’s mouth falls open and he braces to stand but sinks heavily back into his seat, his legs too weak to support him. He clutches his head and Kakashi doesn’t envy the vertigo he’s suffering. “No, wait! I didn’t mean it like that. I’m sorry, this very kind of you and I’m being rude. Please, I’m sorry.”

Kakashi leans in, keeping his movements slow and predatory as he looms over Iruka. “Sensei, do you want me here?” he asks bluntly, watching Iruka’s consciousness begin to slip away. “ _Do you want me to stay_?” His words imply much more than Iruka can parse at the moment, but Kakashi feels strangely anxious.

Iruka stares at him, brown eyes wide and searching.

Kakashi watches his pupils dilate and his own body settles deeper into a state of numbness with each second that passes by. He filters through the thousands of jutsus he’s copied and waits for Iruka’s response.

“Yes,” Iruka finally whispers. “Stay.”

A powerful wave of relief and desire slams into Kakashi hard enough that he has to plant his hands on the table to keep steady, his legs threatening to give out. _Iruka chose him._ Even with Kakashi offering to leave, _Iruka asked him to stay. Iruka wanted him._ Gathering himself into a facade of control, Kakashi gives a soft, “okay,” and pulls back to give Iruka room.

Iruka is peering down at the table, his cheeks red behind the curtain of his hair. Whether from a blush or the fever, Kakashi doesn’t know and it doesn’t matter; Iruka chose him and nothing could dampen his elation.

Kakashi reaches into the take-out bag and tugs out a few bottles of medicine that he sets down in front of Iruka. “You didn’t mention what it was you were sick with, so I bought a variety.”

The fever was rising again, steadily pulling Iruka under. Staring fixedly at the bottles, Iruka looks lost.

“Iruka?” Kakashi prompts.

Iruka shifts at his name. “Sorry, it’s just,” he swallows heavily, “I don’t remember the last time someone else brought medicine for me, I’ve always done it. Not since my mom-” he falls silent, voice stolen by painful memories. Wracked by a wave of shivers, Iruka groans, hunching in on himself.

Kakashi watches Iruka’s lucidity vanish with interest. “That’s why you need me, sensei. I’ll take care of you until we’re dead, and even after that.”

Kakashi gives in, dragging his chair to next to Iruka’s. Grabbing Iruka’s chopsticks, he carefully feeds him, sealing the noodles in with a closed kiss whenever Iruka grimaces or avoids him. He switches to spooning Iruka the broth and more than once swoops in to wipe away stray drops with his tongue, always trailing back for another fleeting kiss.

Once the bowl is more than halfway empty, Kakashi sets the chopsticks down and cleans up, putting the leftovers in the fridge. He hums, listening to Iruka’s labored breathing as he presses his face into the table, too sick to hold his head up.

Kakashi dries his hands on a dish towel and notices a new scar on the webbing of his thumb, deliberately inspecting it slowly as Iruka struggles behind him. “Iruka, you need to bathe, we have to bring your fever down,” he says lightly, his gaze sliding sideways.

Hearing another muted whimper as a response, Kakashi smiles warmly. “Don’t worry, I’ll take care of you. Just rest.” He fully turns to Iruka, whose empty gaze is glued to Kakashi. “Rest knowing that I love you and that you love me.”

With the caution of holding fine china, Kakashi tucks an arm under Iruka’s knees and along his back, hauling him up. He holds Iruka close, even as the other protests the movement and limply flops back.

“Shh, it’ll be okay. Don’t worry.”

In the bathroom, Kakashi sets a half-conscious Iruka down in the middle of the bathtub and fiddles with the shower controls until tepid water beings to fill the tub. Kakashi divests himself of his hitai-ate, shirt, and mask, leaving only his pants.

He steps in behind Iruka and sits, mildly caught off-guard as Iruka instantly slumps onto him. It takes Kakashi a second to realize Iruka passed out and he smiles ruefully, arching his back and curving his body comfortably as Iruka’s head lolls loosely onto his shoulder. Kakashi lets him rest, savor his weight against him.

Once the bath water laps at his waist, Kakashi shuts off the spigot and summons a kunai.

Gently, Kakashi relieves Iruka of his soggy shirt and his hands immediately got to explore Iruka’s torso with the deference deserving of a deity. His hands worship the valleys between Iruka’s ribs and feel his pulse jerk, Iruka’s heart only inches away. It steals his breath as he focuses on the steady, strong beat, feeling his own rhythm alongside it. He drags his fingers across Iruka’s collarbones and down his sternum, his touch slick with water.

He rubs the calloused pads of his thumbs around and over Iruka’s nipples, his mouth going dry as the brown flesh beads beautifully beneath his touch, begging for more attention. Kakashi relents and gives a small tweak, wondering what noises Iruka will make when he gives himself up completely to Kakashi.

Kakashi is intent on taking Iruka apart, discovering every hidden secret in Iruka’s body and exploiting them to drive Iruka to the brink of his consciousness in a long, intense fuck. He plans on stripping him bare and taking him over and over until Iruka can’t move, can’t think of anything but Kakashi and their love.

Kakashi closes his eyes and inhales deeply, almost dizzy with scent of Iruka around him. The arousal in his stomach grows heavier and his cock fully wakes, pressing up against Iruka’s ass. He feels cruelly possessive, though with sweet edge of tenderness to soften and dampen his impulses. He will possess Iruka down to his cells, not only in body and mind, but in _everything._

Reverently, he slides his palms down Iruka’s arms and to his hands, where he fits their fingers together like puzzle pieces. He marvels at the difference in their skin tones, once more noting how much they complement one another.

Kakashi then peppers small, wet kisses along Iruka’s shoulders, his tongue slipping out to catch a tangy taste of sweat as he pulls back. His hand traces over the mass of scarred tissue that could’ve killed Iruka with barely veiled rage, wishing he was the one who killed the bastard. He would’ve dismantled Mizuki with the full power of the Sharingan before ripping his heart out of his chest with a well-placed Raikiri.

Iruka’s stomach receives the same level of attention, with Kakashi memorizing the feel of him and twining his fingers through the thin trail of hair leading him past Iruka’s bellybutton to the waist of his boxers. Kakashi sticks his fingers beneath the band but goes no further, merely content with touching Iruka for now. He guides his hands down the length of Iruka’s legs as far as he can reach, savoring the muscle there before drawing up to the curve of his firm ass. He dips his hands between Iruka’s legs to caress his thighs, massaging the muscles he can faintly feel wrapped around his waist in a different position of support. He lets the Sharingan pick up speed, recording everything.

“Ngh,” Iruka moans, rousing slightly as his legs fall open into the water, inviting Kakashi to continue.

Kakashi’s cock presses insistently against his pants, aching to slide home into Iruka. Kakashi allows himself a slow roll of his hips, rubbing his shaft against Iruka’s ass. “Iruka, I love you. You’re safe with me,” Kakashi croons lowly, reaching for Iruka’s soaked boxers and feeling a tent forming at his ministrations. He drags a finger up the length of Iruka’s clothed cock, watching it jump with the touch. “I’ll take care of everything.”

He boldly cups Iruka’s cock through the thin material, squeezing gently. The flesh stiffens further and Kakashi licks his lips, watching Iruka’s brows furrow as his arousal builds, evident in the flush on Iruka’s cheeks and chest. He opens his hand and grinds down with the heel of his palm, pressing up towards Iruka’s cockhead. Iruka shifts, hips pushing into Kakashi’s hand with uninhibited want, another throaty groan rising from his throat.

“I’m the only one who gets to touch you like this. You’re mine,” Kakashi growls, punctuating his words with a gentle grip that leaves Iruka gasping, almost breaking through his delirium. He rasps his thumb over the head through the damp fabric, watching precum come away on his fingers.

His free hand reaches down past Iruka’s sac, blunt fingers prodding Iruka’s puckered entrance. Kakashi runs his finger along the rim, threatening to slip inside, fabric and all. Iruka lets out a whimper, his hole twitching as Kakashi rubs.

“Once you come to live with me, I’ll give you everything you deserve. I’ll love you always, Iruka. Do you love me?”

Wanting to see Iruka’s body revealed fully, Kakashi slices away Iruka’s boxers, parting the scraps as if opening a precious gift. Iruka’s engorged cock lies nestled in a thatch of curly brown hair, the tip flushed red, pearls of moisture beading from his slit and sliding down to pool at the base. His balls hang heavy, silky smooth in Kakashi’s hand.

Wrapping his hand around Iruka’s cock, Kakashi pumps slowly. Iruka quivers in his arms, hips jerking weakly to rock into his fist, sending water splashing. His already ragged breathing turns to panting as Kakashi swipes a thumb across the mushroom tip and the glands underneath, squeezing and tugging Iruka’s shaft. Collecting the drops of pre-cum that dribble from Iruka’s head, Kakashi pumps faster and twists his wrist, groaning softly as Iruka unconsciously grinds back against his cock, driving Kakashi wild.

Iruka’s head shoots off Kakashi’s shoulder as the muscles of his stomach jump with pleasure, almost at his peak. “What? Where- _oh_ ,” he keens, back arching as Kakashi works him firmly. He kicks out a leg and knocks the drain stopper open, allowing the water to rush away quickly. “ _Ohhhh_ , shit.”

“You feel this way because you love me,” Kakashi whispers devilishly into Iruka’s ear, quickening his pace, taking a second to palm Iruka’s sac and tug. Iruka keens, hips canting up into his grip. Sweat slicks his torso and Kakashi can taste him, imagine licking up Iruka’s chest to ravage him and take him apart with his mouth. He settles for mouthing Iruka’s neck, right where it meets his shoulder. He nibbles and licks, careful not to leave any marks.

His fingers return to Iruka’s hole, using cum to smooth the way as the tip of his middle finger pushes inside, a warning of what will come. Iruka’s inner muscles tighten against the intrusion but give way as Kakashi works steadily, sliding in up to his second knuckle. He drags his finger against Iruka’s inner flesh, pulling in and out, all the while feeling Iruka throb around him and suck him deeper.

Half-voiced moans of approval echo in his ears as Iruka rocks onto his finger and grinds into his fist, using him for his pleasure, which Kakashi is more than happy to give.

Kakashi arches forward, kissing Iruka’s jawline. “You love me and I drive you _wild._ You can barely think of anything else but how much you need this, how much you want me. Isn’t that right, Iruka?” he lets his voice drop low, full of his own desire as he quickens his pace. “Tell me.”

“I can’t— _Kakashi_ ,” Iruka slurs, feet skidding in the empty bathtub as he tries to gain traction to thrust harder into Kakashi’s hands. Hands scrabble for purchase on Kakashi’s arms as Iruka seeks something to anchor him, forcing Kakashi closer. “ _Please._ ”

Kakashi’s cock pulses, precum staining his already wet pants. “Please what?” he teases, sinking another digit into Iruka and brushing his prostate with pin-point accuracy. Smirking at the jolt of pleasure that lances through Iruka’s body, Kakashi work’s Iruka’s rim before returning to the gland, hiking Iruka against him with the force of his thrusts. His wrist begins to ache from the awkward angle as he moves in time with his pumping, steadily opening Iruka wider. Locking his leg on the inside of Iruka’s, he bends his knee, exposing Iruka further as he pauses to massage Iruka’s perineum with his thumb. The noise Iruka makes nearly breaks his concentration, feeding directly to his trapped cock and pulling a growl from Kakashi’s chest.

“Shit, too much- _”_ Iruka cries, reduced to half-sobs of desperation as Kakashi finger-fucked him mercilessly. Iruka’s balls draw up and his moans reach a fever pitch. Seconds later, Iruka cums, his body live-wire tight as he empties himself all over Kakashi’s hand and his own trembling thighs.

Enthralled, Kakashi slows his stroking, taking Iruka through smaller waves of pleasure that seize his muscles and suck Kakashi’s fingers inside his hole. Iruka then sags bonelessly with a long, satisfied groan and Kakashi knows he’s out again, the pleasure too much in his delicate state. He lays limp, chest flushed and heaving, and gleaming with sweat, cock jutting out proudly and glistening at the tip.

Absurdly proud, Kakashi grins and lavishes Iruka with small kisses, praising him and professing his love over and over. He brings his cum-stained hand up to his mouth and tastes Iruka. It’s bitter, salty and _male_ , but Kakashi likes it nonetheless. He commits the taste to memory and bites back a groan at the thought of Iruka tasting his, of Iruka’s lips wrapped around his cock, cheeks hollowed out as he sucks eagerly, fisting his own length. His cock jumps, full to bursting at being ignored for so long. He wipes his hand on Iruka’s ruined boxers and tossed the material into the trash can.

Kakashi switches the water back on and firmly readjusts his cock. He lets Iruka lay against him and raises his hands hands to rest on the rim of the bathtub as his head drops back languidly. Letting the Sharingan shut, Kakashi studies the ceiling of Iruka’s little bathroom, willing away his erection. As his heart calms, Kakashi belatedly realizes he’s never felt so at peace, even with a raging hard-on. He’s calm, afloat in a sea of simple happiness and bliss as he soaks in the feeling of Iruka in his arms.

He shifts and sweeps the back of his fingers up and down Iruka’s reddened cheek. “You know, I have a larger tub at my compound. Once you agree to break your lease, we can bathe together all the time. It’ll be just you and me and we’ll have to get used to each other. You’ll learn my faults and see past them, as you always do. It might take you some time to get settled in, especially with Pakkun and the gang, but you’re already part of the pack and you’ll come to see them as family. We can invite Naruto over every so often and we can all spar together.

“You’ll worry about being outclassed and keeping up, and I’ll worry about your safety when I’m out on missions. So I’ll offer to train you. I would make you the deadliest chuunin Konoha has ever seen, a master in taijutsu, ninjutsu, and genjutsu. You could be a jounin.” Kakashi peers down at Iruka. “How does that sound? You could end up protecting _me._ Almost sounds like a dream,” he trails off.

Given Iruka’s surname, Kakashi hazards that Iruka’s chakra nature might be water; an excellent conductor for lighting and yet another sign of how perfectly they matched. Kakashi muses over the surrealness of their complementary traits and grins happily. Fate can’t be any clearer. They will be formidable together, each strengthening the other and keeping them safe.

Kakashi lets Iruka recuperate for a while longer as he lets his imagination run wild. Eventually he reaches for the washcloth and bar of soap. Lovingly, he washes Iruka and memorizes the lines of his body as he trails the washcloth over burning hot skin. Each freckle and scar is documented, filed away in Kakashi’s mind even as the Sharingan hemorrhages chakra. He’s gentle as he shampoos Iruka’s hair, working out the knots. As he brings down Iruka’s temperature, he whispers to him, persuading Iruka’s subconscious with gilded promises and endearments, words dripping from his lips like honey.

Once he deems Iruka clean enough, he pats him dry and dresses him, kissing a strip of flesh along Iruka’s collarbone as he slips a shirt over Iruka’s head and another line up Iruka’s leg as he tugs pants on him and a new pair of boxers for himself. Satisfied, Kakashi switches the sheets for a new set and tucks Iruka into bed, placing a wet towel on his forehead.

Kakashi then heads to the kitchen and dumps the rest of the pyrogen down the sink, shattering the vial and dropping it into the trash.  He briskly disposes of the trace amounts in Iruka’s kitchen and wonders if Tsunade will ever notice that her archive of poisons was breached.

****

In total, it takes Iruka five days to get better.

Five days of Kakashi devoting himself entirely to the chuunin, taking every opportunity to care for Iruka and keep him safe. On the fourth day, Kakashi began to worry about the duration, running the calculations in his mind several times after he assumes that he overestimated the amount to use. Luckily, Iruka’s fever breaks and he spends another day recuperating in bed.

On the last day, Kakashi takes great care to regretfully wipe away all traces of his overnight stays and replace them with items that hint towards his presence. A stray Icha Icha book here, an extra plate on the drying rack, a weapons scroll or two on the coffee table; all mundane things that speak of home.

As Iruka slumbers with dreams of them together, Kakashi refines the series of memories he created to fill in the gaps in Iruka’s memory for the last week, these offering a disjointed mixture of moments in which he nurses Iruka back to health and sleeps on the sofa every night. He painstakingly adds enough detail to convince Iruka of their validity, painting the memories with a haze of gratitude as a final touch.

The technique turned out to be fairly simple after he pulled more forbidden Yamanaka scrolls and poured over them while Iruka slept beside him. The danger lies in paying careful attention to the design or the threads of the memories will unravel and fall apart, leaving the prey incapable of trusting their own memory and risk losing their sanity. It was a dangerous gamble and one Kakashi felt confident enough to attempt.

Savoring the sweet bliss of the past few days, Kakashi checks on Iruka one last time.

Iruka is curled up in his bed, body gravitating towards the spot Kakashi had taken up during his stay. Kakashi smiles at the sight, love bubbling in his chest.

Striding to the prone figure, Kakashi reaches over and gently pushes Iruka’s eyelids open. He implants the last illusion and steps away, dragging his fingertips down Iruka’s cheeks in a farewell gesture. Iruka grumbles and burrows closer to Kakashi’s pillow..

The compulsion to duck down and kiss Iruka is sharp and demanding and Kakashi relishes the sting but he does not move. He has executed his plan perfectly, and now it is up to Iruka; his interference ends where Iruka’s control begins.

He places a note on the table, profusely apologizing for having to leave Iruka all alone while sick. Before he leaves, he drops his hitai-ate between two couch cushions, sliding it down just far enough that it looks like an accident.

A peculiar feeling of sadness settles inside of him and Kakashi welcomes it as he opens the front door and places a foot outside. Taking one last look back, he leaves.

 

Kakashi comes in through the Hokage’s window.

 

Tsunade stares at him, chest heaving from the scolding she’s given him. “You’re actively looking to go on a mission? Without me having to send ANBU to hunt you down? Are you ill?”

“Have a little more confidence in me, that stings,” Kakashi complains, actively focusing on keeping his eyes on the Hokage’s face. It’s not that he _wants_ to look, it’s just grotesquely fascinating. “Can’t I express my loyalty and devotion to Konoha by being the perfect soldier?”

Tsunade sits back, huffing incredulously. “I call it as I see it,” she says absentmindedly, eyes flickering to a messy pile of paper on the corner of her desk. “Far be it for me to deny sending you out, but I’ll have to ask why.”

Kakashi adjusts sublty in his seat. “Fair enough. I’m getting stir crazy.”

The Hokage’s eyes shine. “Take on another genin team if you’re that desperate.”

“Given my track record, Konoha wouldn’t survive.” He doesn’t like to think about Sasuke.

“I can lease you for a few days.”

“Anything for a week or two?”

“Not unless you want to head out to Iwa in the Land of Earth. Several sightings of missing nin have been reported.”

Kakashi weighs the option briefly. “I’ll take it.”

“It won’t be easy. Even for you.”

Kakashi wiggles his hand expectantly.

She hands him the scroll hesitantly. “I don’t know if this is a sign of the Copy-nin beginning to lose it, but I expect you to return.”

“Of course, Hokage-sama. I’ll have them mail all the pieces of me back.”

“Ha. Brat.”

Kakashi leaves that night.

 

Kakashi supposes it’s his own fault, along with a healthy dose of karma, that he is injured to the extent he is.

He opens a single eye to a familiar ceiling and for a moment is utterly confused. No memories of arriving at Konoha, let alone Iruka’s flat, come to alleviate his confusion. He feels stiff, as if he hasn’t moved in days. Alarm bells ring belatedly in the back of his mind.

He tries to move but is left breathless by the shriek of pain from his injuries. Flashes of attacks run through his mind with the flawless recall of the Sharingan, pointing out all of his mistakes. The idea had been to get injured, but not so much that he’d end up infirm.

Gritting his teeth and prepared for the pain, Kakashi throws the sheets to the side and sits up, arms shaking with exertion. He slips his legs over the side of the bed— _Iruka’s_ bed—and has to stop, the world spinning in crazy circles that bring a vicious punch of nausea.

Everything _hurts_.

Just from the pain alone, he can tell several of his ribs were broken, possibly a collapsed lung, a previously dislocated shoulder, blunt force trauma to the back of his head–which may account for his missing memories–and to his temple. After being forced to hide the Sharingan or face passing out in the middle of battle, he faintly recalls having to pull out several kunai that were embedded in his leg and a half-dozen shuriken from his torso and arms. Peering down at his boxer-clad body, his normally pale skin is mottled with red, purple, yellow, and black, especially where the bandages didn't reach. He feels each and every injury with disgusting clarity.

His chakra pathways feel burned out, aching from his abuse. Experimentally, he tries to invoke a bit of chakra but flinches at the agony of severe chakra depletion, nearly fainting. He grunts hoarsely, grasping instinctually at consciousness with feeble fingers.

The missing nin were dead with holes left in their chests from Kakashi’s Raikiri; that he is sure of. After that, his memory is blank. It unsettles him.

Bracing on the bed again, Kakashi stands, his balance wavering as he recalls blocking a strike with the bottom of his foot and can feel the attack as if it happened again. Breathing through the pain, he glances at the bedside table; it offers nothing more than a glass of water and a mountain of bloodied bandages. The ones he wears are clean, freshly changed. Kakashi can’t help the hope that flutters in his chest. Was it Iruka who tended to him?

He makes it to the doorway on shaky legs and grabs at the door frame to keep from falling as nausea pulls a gag from his throat. Blood loss was a bitch. Breathing heavily, he hears someone in the living room; the weight of the footsteps tells him it’s Iruka and Kakashi gets his second wind. He ignores the red seeping into his pristine bandages and wonders how he has any blood left to bleed.

Kakashi stumbles down the short hallway, leaning wearily on the walls as his vision threatens to blackout, pain wracking his body and making him tremble. He detests feeling so incredibly weak, and so he continues. Reaching the end, he glances up and spots Iruka staring at him, aghast and pale as a ghost. He drops a stack of laundered clothes.

“Hi,” Kakashi croaks, realizing how parched he is.

“Kakashi!” Iruka yelps, rushing to his side and slotting beneath his arm, taking on his weight. “What are you doing out of bed?!”

Kakashi’s strength gives out the minute Iruka’s body is pressed flush against him. He grins, hovering above another wave of agony as Iruka’s shoulder jabs into his broken ribs.

“Wanted to go for a stroll,” he wheezes, clutching Iruka gratefully.

Iruka drags him over to his couch and gingerly deposits him. Kakashi slumps back onto the cushions, wanting to curse as he’s forced to adjust or risk shoving another rib into his good lung. The pain is obscuring his happiness, getting in the way of being able to delight in Iruka worrying over him. Kakashi takes a moment to orient himself.

The silence between them is a sudden bucket of cold water. Rather than Iruka fussing at him, he’s standing off to the side, his expression unreadable.

The fear that Iruka discovered his intentions fills him with black dread and momentarily distracts him from his pain. “Iruka?” he asks, voice bordering on pitiful.

Unresponsive, Iruka removes a glass of water from the coffee table and hands it to Kakashi, helping prop him up. Kakashi drinks appreciatively, using the moment to discern Iruka’s mood. It’s surprisingly difficult to tell, as if Iruka has learned a trick or two from Kakashi about hiding his emotions.

“You don’t remember, do you?” Iruka asks, quirking a brow and drawing back.

Kakashi’s mind tries to sluggishly read what is being implied. “I remember heading out on a mission and getting my ass kicked,” Kakashi replies weakly, clearing his throat. “After that, it’s all black.”

Iruka nods once. “Ah. So you don’t recall dragging your half-dead body through my window in the middle of the night? Or scaring the sentries at the gate, who also let me know you had some mail waiting for you, mail with my name on it?”

A chill steals away all the warmth in Kakashi’s body and his heart stutters. His brain kicks into gear and desperately throws up his contingency plans, creating some on the fly as he tries to think his way out. He trashes all of them, none sufficient. “No?”

Iruka frowns at him and Kakashi grits his teeth. It kills him to know he’s upsetting Iruka, but his famed brilliance is failing him. He doesn’t even have enough chakra to wipe Iruka’s memory. The fear feeds into a panic that Kakashi barely hides. He’s at Iruka’s mercy.

Iruka sighs and procures another medical scroll. He sets it down on the table and releases the seal. “Kakashi, if you wanted my attention that badly, you could’ve asked. You didn’t have to _steal my mail_.”

Kakashi blinks.

Iruka reaches out and captures his hand, bringing it in to change the bandages along his forearm. “Oh I figured that out pretty quickly. Naruto uses different names here and there as a precaution. You only brought the ones that were actually addressed to me. Imagine the sentry’s confusion.” He switches the bloodied cloth for a new one with practiced skill, smoothing it over as he works on the other injuries dotting Kakashi’s body.

“I,” Kakashi says intelligently, trailing off.

“You’re lucky Tsunade doesn’t know you’re here. She would’ve whisked you away to a hospital the moment she saw you.” Iruka pauses. “No one knows you’re here outside of the sentries. You were pretty adamant about that.”

Kakashi remains silent, watching Iruka patch him up.

Iruka continues, “But it makes sense. I did tell you to come to me. I just-” Iruka’s lips press together in a tight line and his hands become rougher. Kakashi doesn’t complain. “Why me?” he whispers.

Kakashi waits a beat, understanding this was Iruka’s moment to reveal his feelings, to validate all of Kakashi’s work. Kakashi’s pulse is a drumbeat in his ears, loud and powerful.

“I don’t know,” he says quietly, lying.

Iruka’s grip becomes a vice. “ _That’s not good enough_ !” he snaps, upset. He looks away from Kakashi. “You come here without going to the hospital. That’s a lot of trust in me. You come here without having eaten anything. You give me expensive tea. You listen to me blather on about my dreams and comfort me. You let me use you as a distraction from my nightmares. You stayed by my side while I was sick. _You stayed here and took care of me_. How am I supposed to take that?”

“You can take it or do nothing,” Kakashi almost whispers, once more offering his heart, this time without the option to eradicate it from Iruka’s mind. It was risk calibrated on all of his previous moves. “It’s up to you.”

Still not looking at him, Iruka lets go of his arm and pulls Kakashi’s hitai-ate from his pocket and runs his fingers along the leaf symbol with the air of habit.

“I couldn’t stop thinking about you while you were gone. I was worried. I couldn’t believe you actually _wanted_ to stay and make sure I didn’t die from a fever. And then you show up crawling through my window, bleeding and delirious, choking on the blood in your lungs....” Iruka’s eyes flash to Kakashi’s face, shining brightly with anger and worry. “You scared the shit out of me.”

Kakashi frowns. “I’m sorry.”

“You will _never_ do that again,” Iruka orders, keeping his fierce gaze steady on Kakashi. “I _never_ want to see you bleeding out on my carpet again, telling me that you love me while you’re _dying._ _Do you understand_?”

“I suppose I can do that in a hospital,” Kakashi tries and the vein in Iruka’s forehead appears, throbbing. Kakashi winces at his faux pas and winces again from the pain of the movement.

“You stupid mail-stealing jounin, with your stupid jounin suicidality,” Iruka growls, clenching Kakashi’s headband tightly. Ignorant of Kakashi’s wounds, Iruka drops the headband and reaches over to cup Kakashi’s face, firmly kissing him.

Kakashi jerks, responding as fast as his body processes the thought that _Iruka is kissing him!_ Kakashi feels light-headed, both from blood loss and pain and incalculable joy. He kisses back, stubbornly neglecting the cries of pain from his body as Iruka’s tongue slides to taste his own. Kakashi swallows up a moan from Iruka, desperate for more. Iruka kisses him just as enthusiastically, offering his own affection that Kakashi snatches and holds close to his heart.

Iruka pulls back, his cheeks tomato red as he meets Kakashi’s gaze. “I think I might love you, too.” He tucks his head down on Kakashi’s shoulder, hiding his face.

Kakashi wraps an injured arm around him and cups the back of Iruka’s head, pressing him closer. He has won. Iruka is _his._

Kakashi smiles darkly, victorious.

 

**_TBC_ **


	4. Teneo

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oops I wrote 3 more chapters

"I'm as alone as you are."  
―Will Graham,  _Hannibal_

No one other than Kakashi notices the tiny tremor in his hand, evidence of his fury.

The last time Kakashi had felt this type of savage anger, Iruka was almost taken from him, close to being killed by a giant shuriken to the spine. Kakashi has vague memories of that day, all hazy with a killing intent that is rarely seen outside of ANBU missions. He makes a tight fist and releases, the tremble vanishing.

Now, faced with an equally as dangerous threat, Kakashi is seething. He stirs the noodles in his bowl slowly to seem nonchalant, barely able catch Iruka speaking over the roaring of blood in his ears. On the verge of snapping his chopsticks in half and breaking his composure, Kakashi sets them down and reaches for his drink. This is their first official date after Iruka confessed and Kakashi felt well enough to venture outside, and it pisses Kakashi off to no end that it would be sullied.

If there is a single being that could ruin everything, it will be a fucking Hyuuga.

“And you don’t know him?” Kakashi asks with casual indifference, ice-cold rage suffusing every bone in his body. It takes an added chakra boost to keep his tone easy and his posture relaxed.

Iruka leans back on his stool, toying with his chopsticks as he waits for his order. “No, no idea. I remember all the parents of my students and I’ve never seen him at the Academy or during my shifts at the Mission Desk. I certainly would remember someone so rude.”

Kakashi hums non committedly. He draws up a mental archive of the Hyuuga family line, methodically cataloguing each member and gauging the risk of killing them all. He chooses a safe angle. “The Hyuuga have always been a strange bunch. It’s possible that he might’ve confused you with someone else or something may have affected his dojutsu. It’s not uncommon.”

Iruka crosses his arms defiantly, annoyed. “But to warn me that something’s wrong with my head? My psych evals have always been normal.” He sniffs. “Anyway, the point is he was an ass and I had a few choice words for him.”

Kakashi feels absurdly proud at the image of Iruka giving a Hyuuga a tongue-lashing. It briefly overshadows his anger and he grins. “Any mention of what exactly was wrong?

Iruka chews his bottom lip. “None at all.”

The waitress then arrives and hands Iruka his bowl and strikes up conversation. Begrudgingly allowing the interaction, Kakashi draws out a kunai to play with in the guise of seeming nervous. He deftly twirls the blade, watching light glint off the deadly edge. Is it purely circumstantial that a Hyuuga has noticed, or is it intentional? It was perfectly timed with Kakashi’s deployment on a mission. How much does he know? Was it a warning? Who else has been alerted? Paranoia climbs up his spine.

Kakashi thumbs the blade of the kunai and discreetly uses the flat side as a mirror, scanning their perimeter without moving. He sees nothing but couples and families walking past Ichiraku’s and enjoying their night, the dark obscuring most of his view. He surreptitiously summons a few clones and sends them out to track all of the Hyuuga outside their compound and within eyesight of their vicinity, stationing one outside Iruka’s home as an added precaution. The chakra drain stings and Kakashi is too furious to care.

Logically, it’s impossible to fulfill his duties as a soldier and head out on missions while actively protecting Iruka; he can’t fathom the amount of chakra depletion he would suffer if he tried to clone himself over that distance. There are a few jutsus that would create a more realistic clone that can survive away from the main host, but the thought of sharing Iruka with even a different version of himself sets Kakashi’s teeth on edge and ignites a surge of irrational possessiveness. No one will watch Iruka other than him.

Kakashi’s lips thin. He knows that every moment spent away from Iruka creates an opportunity for someone to damage their relationship and push Iruka away from him. Iruka does love him but it’s tenuous, a budding rose that is yet to fully flower; Kakashi recognizes that Iruka doesn’t love him in the same obsessive manner, however, he knows Iruka’s affection can be cultivated and nurtured into something similar—if the correct circumstances come about. Rushing the process will be tricky.

Kakashi speculates that the Hyuuga only warned Iruka as the absence of ANBU and Tsunade out for his blood seems to indicate, yet that would be insulting his own skills as the famed Copy-nin. Too many ugly variables and casualties to account for if they come for him head on, which they know that Kakashi knows. If they want him, it would be subtle, a play of attempting to predict his next move while Kakashi plans several steps ahead. He wants to smirk. Konoha would be razed to the ground if they so much as tried to hide Iruka from him; every ounce of his abilities would make sure of that.

Iruka politely ends his exchange with the waitress and Kakashi twists towards him and props his elbow onto the table, sinking his chin into his palm. To counter the Hyuuga’s meddling, he’ll need to dissuade Iruka of any misgivings and adjust his plans. Filaments of an idea draw together in the back of his mind and Kakashi pays them no heed as Iruka gazes at him, a grin wrinkling his scar.

“Oh this smells heavenly.”

“Better than soldier pills and ration bars,” Kakashi agrees amicably, the acrid taste still on his tongue. The joy on Iruka’s face is precious and Kakashi is jealous he didn’t place it there.

“I’ll bet. It’s been some time since I was on a mission and I still have the taste of ration bars in the back of my throat.”

“Packed with enough nutrients to keep a man alive for weeks. You’d think they’d do us the courtesy of adding something to numb the taste buds.”

“Can’t have that. The disgust lets you know you’re alive,” Iruka snickers, biting into a fishcake. He points his chopsticks at Kakashi. “Or if you go with the other theory, they’re intentionally disgusting so you’ll rush home and complete your mission within the deadline.”

Kakashi gives a dry chuckle. “I see the merit to that one.”

As their night progresses, Kakashi finds himself utterly entranced by Iruka’s fleeting glances and fussiness, the small gestures gratifyingly confirming Iruka’s attraction to him and dragging Kakashi further into his fixated love. He’s mesmerized by the colors in his hair in the light of the lanterns, almost as if he has a halo; an apt comparison in Kakashi’s eyes. It’s as perfect as the genjutsus he regularly constructs, down to the curious twinkle in Iruka’s eye. An occasional blush darkens Iruka’s cheeks and Kakashi wants to swear, remembering the pink shades on Iruka’s face as he stroked him from inside, sweetly coaxing Iruka to come for him. Having played back the moment with the Sharingan countless times, Kakashi eagerly anticipates the day Iruka willingly invites him in, seeking more than just his fingers.

The simple bliss of being out with Iruka puts Kakashi on the brink of arrogantly proclaiming his love for all of Konoha to hear and remember, yet he wants to hide Iruka away, too, a hidden deity to whom only Kakashi devotes his life and affection. Kakashi savors the dissonance, content to have the luxury of either option. He then bluntly targets one of Iruka’s weak points.

“Your last mission, was it as a member of my squad during Sandaime’s time?”

Iruka twitches and tries to hide the slip, taking a long sip of his drink. “My last mission as a ninja, yes. However, I occasionally go outside of Konoha with the students to give them a taste of field work before they graduate and become genin.” He sighs, tensing. “And before you say anything, yes, that last mission proved to me that I’m better off teaching than going on missions. I’m sure you remember what happened.”

“You tried to save a misguided boy rather than kill him.”

“And in turn jeopardized the mission.”

“We need ninjas with empathy. Your compassionate nature fits well with teaching, it’s not a demerit on your skills to have chosen differently,” Kakashi counters.

“A soft ninja. What an oxymoron.” Iruka’s tone is bitter, full of old wounds.

Kakashi is gentle, his heart aching for a younger Iruka’s suffering. “The antithesis would be worrisome; a village of remorseless killers and psychopaths a hair's breadth away from murdering each other. And not soft—caring. Your strength lies in protecting those who can’t protect themselves and teaching them to be strong. Don’t doubt yourself Iruka. You are right where you need to be. I would rather have you here than fighting a battle that I’m built for.”

Iruka groans, hiding his face behind his hands. The tips of his ears are pink. “You know, for being known as silver-tongued devil, you’re awfully cheesy.”

“Is that what people think of me?” Kakashi asks, fascinated.

“Chuunin talk.” Iruka waves a flippant hand. “We get bored between classes and shifts at the Mission Desk.”

“I hope you’ve defended my honor, then.”

“Oh, I haven’t told anyone that...we’re together.” He looks conflicted and Kakashi becomes immobile, his heart freezing. “I wasn’t sure if you wanted people to know, or if you were comfortable with that,” Iruka finishes, stammering. “I mean, I’m okay with it and it’s fine if you don’t want to, there’s no pressure and I—”

Kakashi reaches over and cups Iruka’s cheek, mindful the people passing by the stand. Iruka instinctually leans into the caress and gazes trustingly at Kakashi. Kakashi struggles to remember how to breathe. He swipes his thumb along Iruka’s cheek.

“Don’t stress about it. We’ll take it easy,” he lies. He retracts his hand, relishing the clear disappointment in Iruka’s eyes.

Quiet now, Iruka prods his ramen; Kakashi can almost see his thinking. He waits and is rewarded. “You would let me know if there’s anything wrong with me, right? In my head, I mean.”

The uncertain concern in Iruka’s eyes reignites Kakashi’s icy anger. Brazenly shoving his hitai-ate up, Kakashi opens his Sharingan and Iruka goes stock-still, awed by the spinning tomes. Closing his normal eye, Kakashi is unable to see much outside of odd chakra concentrations in Iruka’s head, courtesy of the seals Kakashi has in place to activate in the event he’s forced to erase more of Iruka’s memories. Kakashi surmises that he’ll have to go in and clean up the messier seals from his earlier attempts, but the danger of Iruka’s potential reaction holds him back. The Yamanaka scrolls detailed nothing about reworking seals.

Although Kakashi has been careful to hide his chakra signature and disguise the seals as best he can, the Byakugan would have easily been able to pinpoint the altered pathways in Iruka’s mind and raise an alarm. Kakashi hadn’t anticipated Iruka ever crossing paths with other kekkei genkai, especially another skilled dojutsu user.

“Everything looks alright to me,” Kakashi declares, closing the Sharingan and replacing his hitai-ate. “I hereby rubber stamp you.”

Iruka is visibly relieved. “I guess he was just mistaken.”

“You’ll probably never see him again.”

  

An hour later, after a bit of ruthless reconnaissance, Kakashi finds him.

 

The next three weeks crawl by without Iruka to distract Kakashi.

The first step had been to induce a confession from Iruka, establishing a baseline for their intimate relationship on the foundations Kakashi had spent months propagating. For Iruka, they are just beginning to explore this new phase, having barely shared an innocent kiss and yet with the threat the Hyuuga brings and Kakashi’s increasing paranoia, he can’t allow a natural progression. Not if he wants Iruka as desperate for him as he is for Iruka.

From afar, Kakashi watches Iruka trudge home after his shift at the Mission Desk, the sun just beginning to set. Unprompted, he has glanced over his shoulder seven times and Kakashi is convinced it’s him Iruka is looking for, thrown off by Kakashi’s abrupt absence in his life. Deviating further, Iruka refuses to stop and chat with those who greet him as is custom and Kakashi feels a perverse sense of happiness fill him, delighted at the marked change. He tracks Iruka to the Chuunin barracks and settles down on his usual rooftop, content whenever Iruka peeks out his windows or rests on the balcony outside, eyes glued on the path that Kakashi always uses. Iruka’s hopeful searches keep him warm as the sun dips below the horizon, and warmer still when Iruka wakes from a cruel nightmare, whispering Kakashi’s name in a plea.

In their time spent apart, Kakashi is forlorn, aching to return to Iruka’s side. He misses Iruka’s open smiles and his angry scowls, the vacancy they leave greater than any pain Kakashi has endured. Having tasted Iruka, he’s become avaricious, addicted, needing more of his affection to feel satiated. He toys with the idea of dropping by, knowing he won't.

It is time for Iruka to come to _him_.

 

Four days later, Kakashi paces barefoot around his compound like a caged tiger, cursing the Hokage vehemently. Forced to be on-call as an ANBU leader for a classified mission involving a missing Hyuuga, Kakashi is confined to his house, awaiting orders and barred from burning through any chakra at all costs. He intended to break his self-imposed exile from Iruka that same day only to be faced with the mission of unknown length, extending his torture. It can be months until he sees Iruka again.

Weighing the risk of sending out a clone to at least get a _glimpse_ of Iruka, Kakashi’s attention is suddenly broken by several firm knocks on his door and he pauses mid-step, eyes narrowing into thin slits. He opens the door.

“Iruka?” Kakashi hesitates, wondering if his desires were somehow manifesting as hallucinations. Iruka has never been to the jounin barracks on this side of Konoha, let alone his compound.

Iruka holds his hands behind his back, a determined look on his red, sweaty face. Random strands of hair stick out from his usually immaculate ponytail. “Before you ask, I asked Gai-san where you lived. He challenged me to a race around Konoha for your address,” he blurts out breathlessly. “I lost and accidentally might’ve revealed we’re together, and I didn’t want you to be ambushed so consider yourself warned.”

Kakashi coughs out a laugh, reeling. Iruka had missed him to the point he sought him out! Elation blooms in his chest and his earlier tension all but disappears. Kakashi steps aside and rubs the back of his neck, acutely anxious that Iruka will disappear if he looks away. “I’ll stay on my toes. Come on in.”

Iruka shakes his head and Kakashi feels the rejection like a shard of ice in his chest. “Maybe another time, Kakashi. I have to be at the Mission Desk in...” his eyes flick to the side and back, “...30 seconds.” He thrusts his hands forward, holding out a tiny omamori with a scarecrow face.

Kakashi blinks.

“I know you’re heading out on some big mission— Genma can’t keep his mouth shut— and I came to say good luck.” Handing the gift over, Iruka gives Kakashi a quick kiss on his masked mouth. “Try not to get injured this time.”

Kakashi clutches the amulet reflexively, his mind blindsided by the rapid shift from dejection to bliss and before he can kiss back, Iruka darts off with a mischievous grin and a cheery wave.

A hand on the door frame and foot outside, Kakashi scarcely holds himself back from hunting Iruka down and dragging him into an alley. He eyes the omamori, his lips buzzing with feverish excitement. Heading inside, Kakashi lovingly strokes the gift and tucks it inside his flak jacket where he can constantly admire a tangible demonstration of Iruka’s love. It seems that he won’t have to push Iruka as much as he initially thought.

The goofy smile on his face and the charm carry him through the long mission and back.

 

“You’re early,” Kakashi remarks, not at all surprised. He wipes his hands on the white apron around his waist.

“I was in the neighborhood,” Iruka retorts, self-consciously running a finger along his scar. “And a little nervous.”

Kakashi ushers Iruka in, leading him immediately to the kitchen. He can tell Iruka wants to look around and explore, having never stepped foot in Kakashi’s compound, but Kakashi refuses to relinquish his attention even for a moment.

“I won’t poison you, I promise.”

“Ah yes, that’s what I was nervous about.”

“Sit,” Kakashi says sternly. “I’m almost done.”

Iruka obediently slides onto one of the stools in his kitchen, eyes glancing around the room with hungry curiosity. Kakashi wonders what Iruka is thinking, wishing he knew of a jutsu that would allow him to see into Iruka’s mind. Unlike Iruka’s homey kitchen, with its knick knacks from Naruto and Iruka’s personal touches, Kakashi’s kitchen is clean and devoid of life, broadcasting his lonely and mission-filled existence. Kakashi is content to leave it as it is, knowing that once Iruka moves in, he’ll transform it completely.

“Sorry I’m early—”

“Iruka, it’s fine. Anyway, you get to watch.”

“A front row seat. You’re really spoiling me.”

Kakashi grins, refraining from telling Iruka how much he truly intends to spoil him. Turning around, Kakashi reveals his Sharingan and re-invokes the technique he copied from a chef in the Land of Mist. Deftly, he begins to cook, hands moving expertly to slice shrimp, mix batter and boil noodles. It’s a simple dish, but Kakashi adds flare. Iruka’s eyes follow his every move intently and Kakashi loves it, aware that their roles are reversed.

Quickly finished, he sets out the dishes in front of Iruka, noticing Iruka’s eyebrows rise higher with each bowl.

“Home cooked tempura soba? Consider me spoiled,” Iruka breathes, a flush darkening his cheeks. “Wow.”

Kakashi can’t help the rush of pride at Iruka words. Wanting nothing more to duck in and kiss Iruka fervently, he distracts himself by grabbing his own bowl of noodles and taking the seat next to Iruka.

“Kakashi, seriously, this is incredible. I thought you didn’t know how to cook?”

“I picked up a few things on my last mission. Wanted to surprise you,” Kakashi says easily, enjoying Iruka’s starstruck gaze. He watches keenly as Iruka takes a bite and lets out a small moan that pulses straight to Kakashi’s cock.

“We’ll have to do this more often,” Iruka demands after another mouthful, his eyes beseeching Kakashi. “Gods, this rivals Ichiraku’s soba.”

Kakashi’s hands twitch with the impulse to feed Iruka himself, watching every bite and swallow and wanting to chase them down with a deep kiss. Indescribably happy at having received Iruka’s praise, Kakashi tilts his head a degree. “Whenever you’d like.”

Iruka’s gaze drops to Kakashi’s lips and his pupils dilate. He quickly looks down at his bowl, digging in studiously.

Kakashi notes the action and hums in thought, refilling Iruka’s glass.

 

It’s hours into his search when Kakashi comes across the perfect mission.

His eyes alight as he skims the details, a sharp smile growing the further he reads. Slowly, he stands and steps over the myriad unassigned A and B-rank scrolls littering the Mission Desk floor, all unsuitable for his intentions, and sets his scroll down on the table. He painstakingly edits a few brushstrokes and imitates Tsunade’s directives and barely-legible handwriting. Once the ink dries, he seals the scroll.

He shoves all of the unassigned missions back into Tsunade’s horrifically unorganized personal archives and waits at the doorway, timing his exit.

Out in the hallway, a chuunin on guard rounds a corner, spots him, and crosses his arms.

“Huh? Kotetsu? What are you doing here this late?”

Kakashi jumps forward and grasps the chuunin’s hands, holding them tightly. “Izumo! You gotta help me!”

Izumo frowns but looks interested. “What did you do this time? Forget to submit another mission report? I told you I wasn’t going to lie for you again, Tsunade nearly took my head off last time and tried to get Tonton to bite me.”

“Nope, not this time,” Kakashi says as he shakes his head dramatically and widens his eyes in a facsimile of fear. He holds the doctored scroll out for Izumo. “Tsunade-sama wanted this mission to be lodged and I completely forgot. I don’t have access to the outgoing scroll files.”

Izumo takes the scroll and looks it over dubiously. “You want me to sneak it in?”

“Shove it in somewhere. Do it and I’ll owe you lunch tomorrow.”

Izumo’s eyes gleam. “Make it lunch for the week and I'll do it.”

“Cheap bastard; two days after payday.”

“Stingy bastard; _three days_ and your stash of dango.”

“Greedy bastard; one day and a new batch of dango.”

“Selfish bastard; two days and a two batches of dango.”

Kakashi tugs the shaggy black hair on his head in mock frustration. “Fine! But if Anko-san asks, I don’t exist anymore.”

“Deal!” Happily, Izumo tucks the scroll into his flak jacket. “Now get out of here before someone sees you and you get me in trouble.”

Kakashi rolls his eyes, tired of imitating the lowly chuunin. “Yea-yea, just file it. Catch you at the bar, later.”

“You’re buying!”

“You wish!”

Well outside the tower, Kakashi returns to his normal gait and summons a black poncho before dispelling his genjutsu and blending into the night. A light rainfall begins and Kakashi raises the hood over his head and roams all over a sleeping Konoha, his path intricate as he stays vigilant.

Satisfied he’s not being followed Kakashi veers towards the chuunin barracks and an unconscious Iruka.

 

Urgently summoned to the Hokage’s tower, Kakashi chooses to enter through the other window and nimbly lands on the balls of his feet.

In a fraction of a second, alarm punches through his body and Kakashi has the room analyzed and one of his contingency plans prepped. He curves his spine into an apathetic slouch and slides a hand into his pocket, deceptively within easy reach of his weapons pouch. He gives a two-finger salute.

“Yo.”

The stress lines on Tsunade’s face stand out, carving deep into her face and reminding Kakashi that she hides her age. “Kakashi. Have a seat.”

He nods at Ibiki and Inoichi who solemnly greet him back. Kakashi senses ANBU behind him and lazily peers over his shoulder, watching them seal the room. On high alert as adrenaline rockets through his blood and his battle instincts scream at him, Kakashi sits, body angled to view everyone in the room. He hides his tension perfectly, lifting a leg to rest his ankle over the opposite knee, the epitome of indolence. “As wonderful as it is to see everyone’s smiling faces, I’m assuming this isn’t just a courtesy call?” he asks, testing the waters.

“Cut the shit, brat, you know this is serious. We found the Hyuuga.”

Kakashi wants to smile. He inclines his head fractionally, relaxing. “Given that he’s been missing for a few months, I don’t expect there’s good news?”

Tsunade waves a hand at Inoichi. “Tell him.”

Inoichi clears his throat and offers Kakashi a thick medical chart. “Tsume Inuzuka tracked his body outside of Konoha, unconscious and in a particularly bad state. We found no evidence of physical wounds. Only…his mind is gone.”

Kakashi fakes interest, glimpsing over the data on the documents. The bastard was being kept in the secured rooms at Konoha Hospital, still fairly accessible to Kakashi if he were so inclined. “Define ‘gone’,” he mutters.

Ibiki took over then. “He’s completely unresponsive to any type of stimuli and is virtually catatonic. Pain, pleasure, warmth, cold; nothing garners a response. He’s on life support, incapable of breathing for himself. No pupil dilation to indicate automatic responses, no stable body temperature...” he trails off.

“That sounds more neurological than psychological,” Kakashi says patiently. “I presume a coma has been ruled out? Tumor, lesions?”

Inoichi shakes his head. “No physical abnormalities. In a coma, the brain functions at the lowest level of alertness. We would be seeing the body keeping itself alive. _This isn’t a coma_.”

“And he’s not brain dead, either,” Tsunade adds, standing up to look outside the tower windows.

Kakashi sets the chart down on her desk and injects the appropriate amount of confusion into his voice. “That’s contradictory. If he’s unresponsive and you can’t get a reading on his brain activity, that’s brain death. He’s clinically dead.”

“We can’t get a normal reading,” Tsunade corrects, turning halfway towards him. “There’s activity, yes, but it’s irregular, bouncing all over his cortex in strange patterns that we’ve been unable to understand and I’ve been unable to rectify. He can’t process stimuli correctly. It’s almost as if his mind has just been scrambled.”

“Rewired,” Kakashi offhandedly quips.

“Even in the worst torture cases, the Uchiha’s Tsukuyomi included, I’ve never seen anything this severe,” Ibiki grunts. “I can’t comprehend the amount of psychological torture it would take to break a mind to this level. I’m not sure where to even begin. It’s a fucking nightmare.”

“And you think the Sharingan may be able to see what’s happening?”

“We believe his mind’s tenketsu may have been impaired and it’s triggering a cascade of problems. You’ll need to check.” Ibiki crosses his arms.

Inoichi nods along. “I’ve tried many times to break through, but I’ve been unsuccessful. There’s nothing. Without external support, his body cannot survive.”

It’s Kakashi’s turn to shake his head. “The Sharingan is unsuitable for seeing the body’s chakra pathways. The tenketsu are too small. You’ll need another Hyuuga for that.”

Tsunade growls, returning to her desk and planting her hands down to glare at Kakashi. “I’ve been specifically keeping them away for fear that it’s a trap or may be transmissible. They’re already riding my ass about tracking down the bastard that did this, I don’t need another useless body.”

Kakashi’s lips twitch and he passes it off as a grimace. “I’ll give it a shot, but it’s unlikely I’ll be of much assistance.”

“Once we have more details, you’ll take a squad of ANBU out and see who has developed a greater interest in our Hyuuga or other kekkei genkai. He was found within Fire Country’s walls, so we won’t rule out infiltration as a mode of attack. Ibiki, Inoichi, I’m leaving the boy in your hands for now; we may have to use brute force to break through into his mind. Inoichi, I expect a report on your findings midday tomorrow.” Tsunade collapses into her chair, rubbing her temples.

They all bow. “Yes, hokage-sama.”

 

Kakashi can hear Obito’s complaints as clear as a bell and waits, letting his conscious pretend to be the dead boy.

He tsks at the gravestone. “Does it matter, if he's happy? We’re both happy.”

He listens respectfully as Obito argues back. “When have ethics ever mattered? You forget, old friend, tools cannot have morals.” Kakashi pats the pocket that contains the omamori, the gesture now habitual. The simple reminder gives Kakashi a warm sense of peace that he has yet to grow accustomed to. “Regardless, love supersedes all and we’re sickeningly in love.”

He adjusts his body posture to emulate quiet grief and radiate loneliness, and he spies Iruka entering the cemetery through the corner of his eye, right on time. He can almost sense the moment Iruka notices him and decides to come over. He studies the gravestone and smiles widely.

“Let me introduce you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I tried to brainstorm what Iruka would do _-only for shits and giggles-_ if the roles were reversed and he was the obsessed one; I've never drawn such a blank before, lol. On a side note, Kakashi doesn't fuck around :D


	5. Ocillio

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I thoroughly enjoy everyones comments on Kakashi, you guys are awesome!

"Extreme acts of cruelty require a high level of empathy."  
―Bedelia Du Maurier,  _Hannibal_

This time, Kakashi tries his hand at yakitori.

The steel skewers remind him of senbon and he dexterously flips them around his fingers, mindlessly humming to himself. Following another copied jutsu, he dices up chicken and scallions, skewering them in a pattern before grilling them over a charcoal fire and adding seasoning. As they cook, he cuts the lights and ignites a few candles, placing them strategically around the kitchen and living room, creating a warm, welcoming environment for Iruka. He takes another cue from Make-Out Tactics and brews Iruka’s favorite tea and sets out a dish of Iruka’s preferred pastries. Anticipation bubbles beneath his skin.

His clone alerts him that Iruka is close by and Kakashi shuts his weapons pouch right as Iruka knocks on his door.

Iruka greets him happily, shoving off his Academy messenger bag and toeing off his sandals. Kakashi graciously takes the bag and inquires about Iruka’s day, already aware of every minute detail, yet from Iruka’s mouth the day is brand new and special. He absorbs every word with unwavering focus, plying Iruka with food to keep him talking.

After polishing off another meal and offering Kakashi more compliments that release starbursts of happiness in his chest, Iruka’s courteous disposition kicks in and he insists on cleaning up. Kakashi playfully argues back to rile him up.

“It’s an unspoken agreement; whoever doesn’t cook, gets to clean,” Iruka lectures with an air of finality, gathering the dishes. “Next time, I can cook and you—” he suddenly jerks, face crumpling in confusion as he reaches for his neck. “What was that?”

Stiffly, he removes a bloodied senbon and looks at an apologetic Kakashi in disbelief. Realization dawns in his eyes and Kakashi can see the abrupt transition into self-preservation, instincts shrieking at him to get away or fight. “No,” he breathes, the senbon tumbling out of his hand as he stumbles back and clasps his neck, limbs becoming uncoordinated. _“No—”_

The dishes are swiped off the table as Iruka fights to remain standing. His knees buckle and Kakashi cleanly catches him, curving an arm around Iruka’s waist and letting him arch backwards gracefully around Kakashi’s hold, reminiscent of a dance between lovers. Iruka feebly shoves at Kakashi’s arms and his eyes lose focus, movements slowing down as his voluntary muscle functions cease. His lips work wordlessly but Kakashi can read his name. The betrayal and fear in Iruka’s weakening gaze cuts Kakashi deeply.

“It’s a paralytic, it’ll wear off in a few hours,” he soothes, trailing his fingers up Iruka’s jaw and manually sliding his eyelids shut. “You’re safe.”

Kakashi wipes away the drop of blood from Iruka’s carotid, lightly fingering his pulse in the process. He waits a beat. Satisfied, he ducks down and tucks an arm beneath Iruka’s knees and adjusts the other higher up on his back, letting Iruka’s hands fall to the wayside. Iruka’s head falls back and he wants to lavish the exposed skin of his throat with kisses. He whisks Iruka down a hallway towards the rear of his compound, all the while basking in the luxury of having Iruka in his arms again. It is truly ethereal.

“I’d ask for forgiveness, but you won’t remember. Regardless, I truly am sorry,” he says softly. “I didn’t have another option and you will prefer it this way. Know that everything I do is to keep us safe. You know I Iove you, don’t you, Iruka? I would do anything for you.”

The drug will keep Iruka immobile long enough for Kakashi to rework the seal, having practiced his fūinjutsu skills extensively on the Hyuuga in preparation. It was too risky to keep Iruka unconscious solely with a genjutsu that could break under the pressure; he didn’t want to physically restrain Iruka either, worried about harming him. This was the least damaging method.

Entering a stripped guest room across from his bedroom, Kakashi gently arranges Iruka on the futon that lies over a large seal he’s drawn on the ground. He tenderly adjusts Iruka’s head over a flat pillow, removing Iruka’s hitai-ate and hair tie to spread his hair out, brushing loose strands out of his face. His thumb strays to Iruka’s lips, dragging across the length and pausing when they part beneath his touch, almost in invitation. Kakashi’s hand wants to quiver.

“I know you can hear me. Don’t be frightened.” Iruka’s breathing hitches before evening out and Kakashi smiles. Iruka’s fortitude is as impressive as ever. “There’s my brave Iruka.”

Kakashi has always known that messing with Iruka’s memories is a dangerous game. The Yamanaka scrolls detailed countless cautionary tales of the victims recalling their missing memories, trapped in a downward spiral of a fracturing reality, unable to discern what was tangibly real or something that only _seemed_ real. They lost their memories, and lost their minds.

Kakashi doesn’t intend to let Iruka lose his mind; not until it becomes a necessity.

If it comes to that he will be Iruka’s moorings, holding him steady in a raging storm of uncertainty, offering refuge and unconditional love in the face of monumental fear. Trapped between distrusting Kakashi and not, Iruka will be left with no other option but to rely on him. A strategy that arguably yields greater results, but a risky endeavor to undertake.

“We’re almost there,” Kakashi whispers sweetly, cupping Iruka’s face. “I know I said it was soon, but it’s almost time. You won’t have to suffer alone for much longer because you’ll be with me, here in my home. We’ll never be apart.”

The temptation is too strong and Kakashi lifts Iruka’s chin and kisses him, the caress gentle and bursting with Kakashi’s love. He lingers there for a long while, sliding his lips across Iruka’s, sharing breaths and stealing small tastes of him, flicking his tongue past Iruka’s lips to delve in and tease. He indulges, knowing Iruka is aware and feeling every soft touch. Kakashi imagines he’s kissing away Iruka’s earlier fear and replacing it with pure love, soothing Iruka’s feelings of deceit. Iruka will come to understand his motives in due time.

Satiated once Iruka’s lips are swollen and slick and his own breathing is ragged, he withdraws, replacing his mask. Sitting beside Iruka, he throws up the strongest barrier seal he has in his arsenal around the entirety of his compound and releases a few of his summons as a precaution.

“This won’t hurt,” he says to assuage any remaining distrust. “I promise.”

Iruka makes a tiny, guttural noise and Kakashi hushes him with a quick kiss on his forehead. He then twists his fingers through a series of complex seals, the symbols beneath Iruka glowing with infused chakra.

He works diligently, sweat breaking out as he teases apart the threads of the previous seals. The moment they’re dispersed, Iruka’s breathing skirts on hyperventilating and his pulse becomes erratic; Kakashi offhandedly wonders what he’s remembering, if anything. The corners of Iruka’s eyes glisten wetly and Kakashi frowns, working harder. He inscribes the new seal and painstakingly devises it to be organic, flowing with Iruka’s natural chakra pathways to render it invisible and only respond to his chakra signature. Iruka remains paralyzed but Kakashi absently monitors his heartbeat.

Drawing to an end hours later, Kakashi is left shaking from the chakra toll on his body. He sits back on his haunches, unsticking his mask from his face and wiping sweat away with his forearm. He pops a soldier pill and waits for the effect, stroking Iruka’s cheek softly and thumbing away the tears that threaten to fall.

“We’re finished, it’s okay. Now you’ll always have a piece of me inside you, protecting you whenever you’re away from me.”

Iruka stays silent and Kakashi plays with his fingers, twining them together. It’s refreshingly liberating to reveal his truths so starkly, to intimately show the depths of his devotion to Iruka and have the other consciously aware for once.

“Gods, the things I want to do to you. For you. With you. I love you so fucking much, it’s frightening,” he confesses. “You strip me of my rationale and leave me lost, flung into an ocean of desperation and violent pining. If you only understood the power you have over me...”

He lifts Iruka’s hand and rubs the back of it against his cheek, ducking to press kisses along Iruka’s wrist. He closes his eyes and grins into Iruka’s skin. “Your heart rate is spiking. Are you happy? Do you love me? Because I know you do. As much as you’re terrified out of your mind right now, you still love me and that scares you the most. Despite what you may be trying to justify, I’m not insane. I’m simply a man in love, waiting to be loved back. And you’re almost there.”

He plants a kiss in the center of Iruka’s palm and idly reveals what he did to the Hyuuga in Iruka’s name, detailing his destruction. Blissfully, he drops more kisses down Iruka’s arm and divulges more of his secrets, offering pieces of his plan, outlining their future together and the path they will take to get there. For the most part, he can fool himself into thinking that Iruka’s muted whimpers are approval, his throat working hard to praise Kakashi without his voice.

Once he regains enough strength, Kakashi moves Iruka to the couch in his living room, tucking him in with the softest blanket he owns. He takes a moment to clean up, destroying all evidence of his actions. He then steals one last kiss and activates the seal, once more wiping Iruka’s memory.

He dries the tear stains on Iruka’s cheeks and settles down on the floor beside him to wait.

 

Kakashi senses the moment Iruka stirs and he acts distracted, occupied in a routine inventory check of his weapons scrolls. He sits cross legged at the coffee table, his back to Iruka, with a stack of completed scrolls to his left.

“Kakashi? Where— oh. _I fell asleep?”_

Kakashi turns halfway, giving Iruka warm, maskless smile meant to allay Iruka’s wariness. No ninja worth his salt would feel comfortable waking up when they didn’t willingly fall asleep. “Told you I was right. You were exhausted.”

Iruka squints, absently scratching his throat as he sits up. “I don’t remember falling asleep. I was eating…. I can’t remember anything beyond that.”

“Do you at least feel rested?” Kakashi deflects.

“Actually, yes. I haven’t felt this rested in a while. I really must’ve been tired.”

“Glad to hear I’m not considered such a threat that you can sleep so easily.”

“Ha. Not for a while, you haven’t,” Iruka admits, sending a flutter through Kakashi’s heart. His rolls his shoulders and his stretch turns into a wince as he glances out the window. “Oh gods, how long was I out?”

“Maybe four hours or so?”

“Shit, I’m sorry for passing out on you, I don’t mean to be a rude guest.”

Kakashi shrugs off the apology, turning back to the table and grinning at his next words. “I will say, it’s pretty late. Wanna sleep with me tonight?”

Iruka’s head whips around to Kakashi, eyes blown wide. “Come again?”

Kakashi continues innocently, “It’s been raining off and on, and it’s two am—” he stops, intentionally fumbling with a kunai and dropping it. He draws his shoulders up defensively. “Ah, wait. I have a guest bedroom. I didn’t mean that I was implying you should sleep with me in my bed, not that I’m against it, on the contrary, I would like that very much, but in this occasion, given the circumstances—”

A pair of hands cover Kakashi’s mouth and he can feel Iruka’s silent laughter behind him. “Gods, you’re as bad as I am. No wonder.”

Kakashi nips at his fingers and laments their retraction until they slide into his hair, tugging playfully at the strands. Breathless at Iruka’s bold, roaming touches, Kakashi stills and his eyes slide shut as he leans back towards Iruka.

Iruka snorts. “Alright, I’ll spend the night. We’ll have a sleepover like prepubescent genin.”

“Takes the fun out when both of us can legally buy sake.”

“Got any prohibited weapons?”

“I am a prohibited weapon.”

“All my explosive tags were lawfully acquired.”

“Should we vandalize something?”

“The Hokage Rock has suffered enough at my and Naruto’s hands.”

“Sneak out of Konoha to terrorize civilian farmers?”

“Let’s not get indicted for treason.”

“What options are left?”

Iruka hums, dropping his hands to Kakashi’s shoulders. “You could continue taking inventory and I could grade? I have class in the morning but there’s no way I’d be able to sleep again. Might as well be productive.”

Kakashi tilts his head back, his vision filled with the beauty of Iruka. “Ah, the wildest of genin sleepover activities: chores.”

“However will Konoha cope?” Iruka grimaces, barely holding back a laugh.

“May our descendents live to tell the tale,” Kakashi says with profound seriousness betrayed by a wink.

Iruka’s laughter is loud now and Kakashi can feel it filling his body with warmth, his nerve endings tingling with bliss. He chuckles along, the smile on his face beginning to hurt. Iruka withdraws and Kakashi is left with ghost sensations on his skin, Iruka’s fingers imprinted on his body.

“May I use your shower? I feel strangely clammy.”

Kakashi nods and gives Iruka directions to the guest bathroom. On the way, Iruka spots something on the floor and bends down and Kakashi can see he found the bloodied senbon. He watches curiously.

Iruka scrutinizes the metal needle for a long, tense moment, an odd expression on his face. He doesn’t move, as if he can’t process what he’s seeing.

“Iruka?” Kakashi rises, prepared to intervene.

Iruka glances at him, eyes eerily blank with an undercurrent of hostility. The senbon twists in his grip, becoming a defensive weapon.

“Oi.” Kakashi reacts accordingly, a shuriken hidden behind his fingers. “Are you alright?”

Iruka blinks and is suddenly back to himself, eyeing Kakashi with wide, inquisitive eyes, void of any malintent. “What?”

Kakashi swiftly analyzes his reaction and modifies his own. “Use the guest bathroom. I’ll bring you a towel,” he reminds him lightly.

Iruka grins at him and walks away, the senbon forgotten, dropping listlessly from his hand.

Pensively, Kakashi retrieves the needle and disposes of it, filing away Iruka’s behavior to later dissect. He hadn’t anticipated the aggression; was it subconscious? He grabs a towel, and on a whim, places a clean set of his own clothes on top, leaving the bundle on the bed for Iruka to find. Back in the living room, he waits with bated breath, listening to the faint sounds of Iruka showering.

Moments later Iruka returns. Kakashi’s heart stumbles and bursts warmth in his chest at the sight of Iruka in his clothes, smelling of Kakashi’s shampoo and bodywash, his entire being screaming that he belongs to Kakashi. Kakashi’s mouth dries and he is grateful to be sitting, aware he would have fallen to his knees in worship had he been standing. A deep, sickly storm of possessive arousal seizes him and he barely manages to contain it, lucidly visualizing fucking Iruka then and there, shredding his own clothes away for having the audacity to touch Iruka’s skin. Every fiber of Iruka’s being would have Kakashi imprinted on it and he would own Iruka to the highest extent possible.

He calmly adjusts his position, disguising the interested perk of his cock as low-grade arousal hums in his veins.

With rosy cheeks, Iruka snags his messenger bag and takes a seat on the floor besides Kakashi, pulling out a stack of assignments. “Thanks,” he says quietly, hiding behind a curtain of his damp hair, and Kakashi nods again, unable to respond for fear of what would come out.

A peaceful, companionable silence falls between them and Kakashi wants to bottle the moment and hoard it with his omamori. He inventories the remaining scrolls on autopilot, keenly focusing on Iruka’s huffed breaths of amusement or frustration as he grades.

Around 4 am, Iruka resolves to at least try to nap before his shift and Kakashi agrees, aware he won’t be able to sleep a wink with Iruka nearby. Although the comparison of genin was a joke, Kakashi feels like one as he wishes Iruka a good night, resting a hand on the doorknob to his bedroom. Iruka looks similarly unbalanced, unsure of what to do.

As Kakashi moves to leave, Iruka snatches his wrist and holds him back.

“Kakashi.”

Kakashi whips around, promptly ready for whatever Iruka might request. “Yes?”

Iruka is frowning as he meets Kakashi’s gaze straight on, a stark vulnerability in his eyes that Kakashi wants to consume. “You never answered my question. Why me?”

Kakashi stills. He searches for the right words, not quite willing to voice the obsessive soliloquy that permeates his every thought. “Why not you?” he says obliquely.

Iruka lets him go. “Don’t avoid the question, I’m being serious. It hasn’t escaped me that we’re not exactly on the same level.”

Kakashi defaults to his simple defense, smiling ruefully. “Iruka, I am being serious. Because you’re you. Because my heart chose you and you deserved to be loved.” Redder than Kakashi had ever seen him, Iruka sputters. “And if you want specifics…,” Kakashi clears his throat and uses his most charismatic drawl. “How do I love thee, let me count the ways—”

Iruka silences him with a hard, bruising kiss, his fists burrowed into Kakashi’s shirt, anchoring him in place. With a muffled laugh, Kakashi arches closer and sinks his tongue in deep, offering his words of love through the kisses and when Iruka tentatively offers his own, Kakashi feels a dangerous hunger lurch in his abdomen, one that howls at him to shove Iruka into the room and strip him bare, rightfully venerating him. As if sensing the danger, Iruka yanks himself away with a breathless “goodnight,” and quickly retreats behind his door.

Kakashi licks his lips slowly, a predatory gleam in his eye. Iruka hasn’t stepped away, lingering on the other side of the door. Resting his forehead on the wood and wishing he could peer through it, Kakashi grins like a fool.

  
  
In the morning Kakashi entertains the idea of marriage as he sends Iruka off to his shift at the Academy, wearing another set of Kakashi’s clothes. He’s leaning on the door frame, arms crossed as Iruka disappears around the corner of a building, stopping to wave one last time at Kakashi, a wide smile on his face.

The domesticity greatly appeals to him. What a perfect life it would be to sleep and wake up next to Iruka every day for the rest of their lives, forever side-by-side and deeply in love. He shivers with delight at the thought, vowing silently to bring it into reality.

He spends some time strategizing as he watches Iruka teach through the wide windows of the Academy.

 

Much to Kakashi’s pleasure, Iruka’s visits increase drastically, prompting Kakashi to hang around the Jounin barracks for a greater chance of coincidentally running into Iruka. Much to the pleasure of his summons, Iruka had taken to bringing small gifts and treats for them despite Kakashi’s dissuasions and superficial complaints of jealousy. Iruka is fully indoctrinated into the pack, loved by all as Kakashi expected.

He is genuinely surprised once more when Iruka gifts him a small potted plant with a carefully handwritten note card detailing its care. It rests in his living room, well tended to and soon accompanied by another plant. With the third one Kakashi suspects Iruka is using the plants as reasons to visit more often but Iruka says nothing on the matter and Kakashi accepts it with unabashed glee, letting Iruka’s influence seep into his home.

Slowly but surely, Iruka becomes a steady fixture in his private life, spending more time with Kakashi than anywhere else or with anyone else. His interactions with his fellow chuunin had dropped significantly, Kakashi paving the way to become their substitute. It has reached the point of Iruka waiting to track down Kakashi to read a new letter from Naruto, wanting to share it with him.

On a lazy afternoon at his compound, Iruka notices Kakashi’s staring and his gaze slides from the book in his left hand to meet Kakashi's eye curiously. "What?”

"Why do _you_ like me?" Kakashi asks bluntly.

Humming, Iruka closes his book and looks up, theatrically pretending to think. "I see enough of you to see the truth of you," he says easily. “You’re unlike anyone else I’ve met and are absurdly kind and gentle, despite how you pretend to be.”

Kakashi wards off a blush of his own. "It could be a facade.”

"Then you've gone through too much trouble and I hope it doesn't end," Iruka counters, ears pinkening. “I’ve somehow managed to land one of Konoha’s most eligible bachelors. Your being attractive helps.”

A crooked grin curves Kakashi’s lips. “Oh?”

“Oh yes,” Iruka says coyly. “Great bragging rights.”

Kakashi ponders telling Iruka exactly how he managed to catch Kakashi’s attention and plans to do it one day. “Less of a trophy, more of a target,” he hints, adding the right amount of tension.

Iruka frowns and fully gives Kakashi his attention. “Is that what brought this on? Are you worried about me?”

Kakashi waits a beat. “Hypothetically speaking, what would you say if I am?”

“I would hypothetically be flattered and concerned the Copy-nin thinks I need him to protect me,” Iruka replies airily, an edge of displeasure in his words.

Kakashi resists smiling. “I wouldn’t be the only one doing the protecting.”

Iruka blinks owlishly, confused.

“I watch Konoha’s back when I go out on missions. Who watches mine when I’m at home?”

Iruka sits up, spine ramrod straight. “Wait, I’m not following. You want _me_ to protect _you_?”

Kakashi averts his gaze purposefully. “Someone has to keep me and my jounin antics in check, wouldn’t you say?”

“How about another jounin?” Iruka offers incredulously.

“My thoughts exactly. How about it, sensei?”

Iruka looks shell-shocked, blinking rapidly. “Kakashi, I don’t know what to say.”

“I’d like an affirmative ‘yes’ or are you tired of me already?”

Iruka breaks out in huge grin that Kakashi desperately wishes the Sharingan had caught. “I think you might get sick of me after you realize how much you outclass me. But you know what, I’ll take that challenge.”

“Perfect.”

 

Familiar with Iruka’s repertoire of moves from having watched him so often, Kakashi knows his weaknesses and strengths well.

He pretends otherwise, letting Iruka demonstrate up close. Slyly, he slips around each position, brushing any part of Iruka he can reach in the guise of correcting his posture or adding stability.

His fingers graze Iruka’s exposed ankles, curve around his knees and elbows, slide across his ribs and back, roam down his arms, walk up his spine, and snake down his chest; he whispers instructions by Iruka’s ears, watching the hairs of his neck stand and Iruka unconsciously tilts his neck, presenting a delicious expanse of skin to Kakashi. He keeps the caresses gentle and his demeanour aloof to confuse the twitching chuunin, sending Iruka into a spiral of poor katas and weak sparring that require Kakashi to touch him further, annihilating any semblance of personal space between them.

Only once Iruka is as red as a tomato and hiding his growing arousal does Kakashi wink at him lasciviously.

 

During the third sparring session, Kakashi discovers Iruka’s chakra nature and is delighted when his prediction comes true; Iruka has an affinity for water. By the end of the training, Iruka manages to boost the power of one of Kakashi’s lighting attacks and Kakashi is left speechless, stunned into silence at their potential and how perfectly they suit one another. He’s left in a daze, Iruka similarly affected, awestruck by his own abilities. The rest of the day is spent together in quiet amazement.

 

On their fourth session, they’re caught by a thunderstorm and huddle wetly beneath an oak tree, laughing while holding hands as the storm rages on.

 

For their sixth session, Kakashi returns to his strategy of getting Iruka habituated to his invasive touches, mixing in difficult training that Iruka determinedly tackles. They easily transition to nonverbal communication, using subtle gestures and body language, moving in a synergy that is often achieved in long-term ninja relationships. With an utmost certainty, Kakashi knows that everything he has done has been worth it, worth the beautiful moments with Iruka.

 

After their eighth session, Kakashi has Iruka melting under his slightest touch, nerves drawn tight with the continuous teasing. He never goes further, always keeping Iruka on the edge.

It will be soon.

 

Kakashi hears whispers floating around Konoha.

He listens attentively as his nose is buried in Icha Icha Paradise, patiently waiting in the shadows as Iruka peruses the market stalls and purchases enough food for two.

He hears his name, which is common enough, but it is now attached to Iruka’s, both uttered in the same sentences over and over. Speculations of their relationship, questions on their sexual orientations, rumors of seeing them training together, sworn testimonies of late night visits and secretive romantic trysts in the Hokage tower; Kakashi is vaguely surprised it took so long for Konoha’s rumor mill to clue in on the Copy-nin’s love life. He’s amused by the more outlandish theories and begrudgingly admits to gaining inspiration from others.

Kakashi knows Iruka can hear them too by the darkening of his ears and the slight hesitations in his movements when he catches snippets of hushed conversations and listens in. When one merchant is brave enough to outright ask Iruka, he receives a loud scolding on believing gossip and minding his own business.

No one but Kakashi sees the mysterious smile on Iruka’s face as he marches away.

 

“That’s my name.” Iruka stares at the hawk, dumbfounded. “I want to say you had something to do with this,” he begins slowly, “but I know you’re not this crazy.”

“I have limits.”

Kakashi takes the mission scroll from the messenger hawk and sends it away. He hands the paper to Iruka and takes his bag, gently pushing Iruka along with a hand to his lower back. Several Academy teachers begin to point and whisper furiously and Kakashi shoots them a dirty grin.

Iruka unravels the scroll and his eyebrows hike into his hairline. “I’m going to need to speak to the Hokage, this is a mistake,” he says, sounding strained. “There’s no way this is for me.”

“Too boring?”

“Too out of my league,” Iruka hisses. “This is an A-Rank mission! I’m still just a chuunin, I don’t have the skill for this.”

Kakashi clicks his tongue. “Don’t sell yourself short, our last few sparring sessions have been impressive. You’re an honorary jounin at this point.”

Iruka glares at him stonily. “I know you’re being supportive and it’s not helping. I have a healthy understanding of what I can and can’t do. Just _look.”_

“I wouldn’t say it if I didn’t believe it,” Kakashi says smugly, taking the proffered scroll. He skims the details, fully aware of the mission and the likely outcomes. “I think it’ll be fine.”

 

The Hyuuga’s funeral is uneventful and Kakashi is bored throughout.

He bows and expresses his deepest condolences to Hiashi, bearing the Hyuuga clan leader’s dissatisfaction at having found no culprit for the boy’s death. He acts appropriately reserved, careful to exhibit a miniscule degree of shame that will add validity to his sympathy and mourning. Each word has a subtly pained inflection, his eyes filled with a commiserating ache for the loss of a fellow shinobi.

In truth, he feels nothing but steady irritation. This is a waste of his time.

Kakashi hangs back after the casket is lowered and systematically inspects each Hyuuga’s face and body language, searching for the slightest hint of falsehood; this would be the perfect moment for his enemies to move against him, he thinks, absently registering his thoughts as bordering on paranoic. Satisfied that all the clansmen are mourning earnestly, Kakashi laments the boy’s passing with Shikaku and determines Konoha’s other genius is sufficiently fooled. The jounin confides in Kakashi that Inoichi’s attempts to break into the boy’s mind had ultimately killed him and they were no closer to finding out who had broken him.

Bemused at the ease of his deception and the arrogance it brings him, Kakashi’s thoughts shift back to Iruka and he opts to pick up some Ichiraku’s for the end of his shift at the Mission Desk.

 

Iruka fingers the frayed edge of the scroll and peers past Konoha’s gates and into the forest. “I guess I’ll see you when I come back?”

Kakashi nods once, finding it fittingly poetic that the first person he will see off on a mission is Iruka; usually he’s the one leaving. “I’ll be waiting.”

“Right. Well, I’m off.”

_“Iruka.”_

Iruka eagerly spins on his heel mid-step. _“Yes?”_

“Be safe.”

Angling his head to keep his face hidden, Kakashi lowers his mask. He places a hand behind Iruka’s neck and draws them into a kiss in plain view of the other ninjas arriving at the gate. Kakashi doesn’t deign to look at them, absorbed only with Iruka.

Iruka kisses him back enthusiastically, chasing when Kakashi shifts back. Distracting Iruka with a wicked slide of his tongue, Kakashi slips his own good luck charm into Iruka’s chest pocket, triggering the tracking jutsu with a tiny burst of chakra.

“I should go before we make a scene,” Iruka whispers, brushing his nose against Kakashi’s and stealing another kiss. “I need to go.”

“We’re already making a scene. Could make it worse,” Kakashi suggests, nipping Iruka’s bottom lip. Stares were boring into his spine. “Stay.”

“And have the Konoha Council disbar me for insubordination?”

“We’ll defect and live as nomads,” Kakashi murmurs against Iruka’s mouth, hiding the seriousness of his words with a crooked smile. “We’ll live in a cabin by the sea and teach the pack how to fish.”

“Ever prepared, aren’t you?”

“Always.”

With a sweet parting kiss, Iruka takes off into the woods, disappearing into a sea of green.

Cheerily, Kakashi adjusts his mask and faces the crowd of ninjas gaping at him, unfazed. He identifies several familiar faces and counts the seconds until one of them approaches him.

Asuma pushes his way through a trio of furiously whispering chuunin, Iruka’s friends disdainfully among them, and places a hand on Kakashi’s shoulder, turning their backs to the crowd. “Did I just see what I think I saw?”

“A romantic moment full of youthful love?”

“Son of a bitch, _you dog_.”

“I’m inclined to take that as a compliment.”

“It’s only a compliment if you’re an Inuzuka,” Asuma snickers. “Damn, I never thought I’d see the day the great Copy-nin finds someone to tolerate him. And it’s Iruka, no less. How’d you manage that?”

Kakashi’s thin smile threatens to fracture. He’s aware Asuma never uses honorifics on Iruka’s name though it doesn’t stem the icy surge of anger that consumes Kakashi at the audacity. He gives a robotic one-shouldered shrug. “What can I say, we were meant to be.”

“I’ll say. He does work with kids after all.”

Kakashi quirks a brow. “Don’t worry, I’m sure one day Kurenai will lower her standards. Every dog has his day,” he deadpans.

Asuma lets out a hearty laugh and procures a cigarette. He lights it, all the while grinning. “Hey if you found someone, the Gods may smile upon me. She can’t keep saying no forever.” He claps Kakashi’s shoulder. “Drinks on me later, to celebrate.”

Kakashi impulsively agrees and then walks away, whistling lowly as the whispers erupt into a frenzy. He makes it a point to wander around Konoha, tactfully side-stepping inquiries from his fellow jounin and purposefully adding to the rumors, making it exceedingly clear that Iruka is his. He quickens his pace the moment Gai finally spots him.

 

That night, Kakashi slips out of Konoha unnoticed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've decided the next fic I do for these two will be lighthearted and cute. At least that's the intention....who knows where the fuck it'll go.  
> On that note, I swear that I'm working on my other fics, I'm just a procrastinator to the marrow in my bones. The next chapter is Kakashi's final move and I won't say more.  
> RIP nameless Hyuuga, you shan't be missed.  
> Kudos and comments are hoarded and appreciated :D


	6. Amavi

"No one can be fully aware of another human being unless we love them.  
By that love, we see potential in our beloved.  
Through that love, we allow our beloved to see their potential.  
Expressing that love, our beloved’s potential comes true.”  
― Hannibal Lecter,  _Hannibal_

Iruka is awake when Kakashi pops back into his hospital room.

He’s staring at the ceiling, eyes circled with dark purple and his forehead bandaged. The pensive gaze in his eyes vanishes when he sees Kakashi and he visibly brightens, struggling to sit up. “Hi,” he croaks and Kakashi is at his side, pressing a cup of water to his lips as he supports Iruka’s back.

“Oi, don’t talk. I’ll go get Tsunade,” Kakashi offers, but Iruka shakes his head and grasps Kakashi’s sleeve, pushing away the cup.

“Stay. She was just in here.” Iruka wearily sinks down onto his pillows at Kakashi’s behest and sighs deeply. 

Kakashi takes a moment to soak him in, eyeing the hand that doesn’t stray far from his own. A shred of anticipation slivers down his spine and he gives Iruka a soft smile. “Welcome back to the world of the living.”

Iruka scoffs. “Do you want to know?” he asks dully.

Earlier, Kakashi had broken into Iruka’s medical records to erase the observed anomaly in Iruka’s head and wipe the attending nurse’s memory; he knew everything that had transpired before, during, and after the mission. “Of course.”

“Not as bad as it could have been.” Iruka squeezes his eyes shut and his expression is pained as he whispers, “I didn’t hesitate this time.”

Kakashi lets out a slow breath. It had been a calculated risk to throw Iruka into reliving a past trauma — and it was successful, at once fortifying Iruka’s recent training and leaving him emotionally vulnerable in the aftermath. The worst was yet to come but Kakashi is patient, waiting to be the one to hold Iruka together. “Injuries?”

“Chakra depletion, a moderate concussion, some broken ribs, bruised liver—not sure how that one happened—and a fractured wrist, among other things.”

Kakashi gently takes Iruka’s wrist and inspects it, delicately manipulating the bones. “Defensive break. Ouch.”

Iruka absently locks his fingers with Kakashi’s, seeking support. “I’m all healed up, just sore and tired.”

“External wounds always heal faster than internal ones. You’re going to be sore for a while.”

“My first A-rank mission: complete. At least I’m pretty sure I turned in the report before I passed out. I feel like death incarnate.”

“That’s the chakra depletion talking.”

Iruka gives a wry smile, eyes slitting open to appraise Kakashi. “I’ll keep that in mind next time you’re laid up and I’m hassling you. I don’t understand how you can even walk.”

“Stubbornness and a high pain threshold.”

“Then I have one thing going for me.”

Kakashi pulls his hand away and circles to the other side of the bed, setting down a bento box from Ichiraku’s and a thermos with Iruka’s favorite tea. Iruka watches him curiously. “I figured you might be hungry.”

Without asking and without Iruka declining, Kakashi preps a small lunch and places the tray within Iruka’s reach. The gratitude is undeniable on Iruka’s face and he eats hungrily, gradually becoming himself and only pausing to remark about the tasteless hospital food and to profusely thank Kakashi.

Kakashi takes the opportunity to sit, allowing the atmosphere to become serious. He waits until Iruka clues in and lowers his chopsticks.

“Kakashi?”

“It’s rare that I ever get scared shitless.” He peers meaningfully at Iruka. “I might’ve shit my entire digestive system.”

Iruka vacillates between being amused and chastised. He sets the dishes aside and faces Kakashi, bowing his head politely. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you.”

“Good, don’t do it again.” Kakashi fights off a smile.

“Yes, sensei.”

“I want to believe you’ve learned your lesson, but I have a feeling you’re merely enjoying the role reversal.”

“Yes, sensei.”

Kakashi coughs, finding the title a little too exciting. “Regardless, I’m glad you returned to me safely.”

“I had my good luck charm, how could I not?” Iruka pulls out the omamori Kakashi snuck into his pocket from under the pillow. He cradles it to his chest, out of Kakashi’s grasp. “Imagine my surprise when I found it.”

Kakashi’s face heats up beneath his mask. “Ah, the ninken wanted to make sure you carried the protection of the pack. Of course it was my idea and they stole it, so you’re free to toss it—”

“I love it,” Iruka says firmly, “and I’m going to keep it. Don’t you dare touch it.”

Kakashi raises his hands in surrender and winks at Iruka who slips it over his neck and tucks it into his gown. 

He lets Iruka relax and they sit in silence, simply savoring each other’s company. Iruka’s fingertips drift over the back of Kakashi’s hand, constantly touching. Kakashi takes his hand and squeezes, letting Iruka know he isn’t going anywhere.

“Did they tell you when you could go home?”

“No, not yet. Shizune-san mentioned discussing something important, but she hasn’t spoken to me since my initial exam. I wish they would hurry. If my wounds don’t kill me, the boredom might.”

After a second of deliberation, Kakashi reaches into his flak jacket and pulls out his favorite copy of Icha Icha Violence, wordlessly handing the worn book to Iruka who looks disdainfully at it. 

Iruka flips through the pages. “You know what, I’ll take it. It can’t be that bad, I see you reading it all the time.”

“It’s one of the best in the series,” Kakashi says proudly. Not to mention the raunchiest and most graphic of all of them. “Truly a masterpiece.”

Abruptly, the door slams open and Kakashi reflexively throws himself between the door and Iruka, battle instincts engaged. Behind him Iruka hisses in pain, startled.

“Iruka!!”

“Izumo, no yelling in the hospital!”

“But Tsunade-sama, you’re yelling too!”

“Ha, what did you say?!”

The two of them squeeze in through the door and Kakashi viciously despises them for interrupting his moment with Iruka. He bites down his caustic anger and softens his stance, returning a handful of kunai into his pouch.

Tsunade shrewdly gauges Kakashi’s reaction and then glances at Iruka, and finally at the book in Iruka’s hands, her expression unreadable. She turns back to Kakashi and points an accusing finger. “I _knew_ you’d be a bad influence. You’ve corrupted him.”

Kakashi grins widely. “Guilty as charged.”

Mortified, Iruka helplessly holds the book away from him as Izumo smothers a laugh. “Lady Tsunade, I wasn’t—”

“Hush,” she orders, now jabbing her finger at Iruka. “You’re supposed to be resting. I still haven’t figured out how the hell you were sent on an A-rank. And you,” she says to Kakashi, “should be in _your_ room, healing in bed. Don’t make me have to restrain you both. This is a hospital not a love hotel.”

“ _Lady Tsunade!”_ Iruka yelps. _“I’d never_ —” he whips around to pin Kakashi with a scowl. “You’re injured?”

Kakashi holds up his hand, displaying his hospital band. “Minor poisoning from a run-in with a missing-nin.”

“‘Minor,’ he says. It nearly cost him his dick, you should thank me for that one,” Tsunade snorts and waggles her eyebrows at Iruka. 

“Upper thigh, my dick is perfectly fine,” Kakashi says sullenly.

Iruka looks faint and Tsunade takes pity on him. “Well I can see that you two are more or less functioning. No touching or I’ll have to station guards in here, and that’s an order; we have young chuunin working and I will not have you scar them with inappropriate behavior.”

Kakashi hums contemplatively. “What if my treatment requires touching? Specifically, Iruka touching my—” He manages to duck and catch Icha Icha Violence smoothly, tucking it into his flak jacket. “Perhaps another time.”

Tsunade huffs a laugh, planting her hands on her hips. “Not that corrupted, then; I may have lost that bet. Before you start your lover’s quarrel, there is something you should know, Iruka.”

Fiercely struggling to break his blushing, Iruka pinches the bridge of his nose. “Yes?”

Izumo steps forward, glancing at Kakashi cautiously and taking a deep breath. “Well, not to kill the mood or anything, but I’ve got some bad news.”

His unusually serious tone catches Iruka off guard. “What bad news? What’s happened? Is Naruto alright?”

“This isn’t about Naruto,” Izumo hesitates before continuing. “A few days ago, a fire broke out at the Chuunin barracks and burned through the building. It’s been traced back to faulty wiring in the electrical system of one of the downstairs units but it spread fast. Our sections were hit pretty badly.”

Iruka pales. “What?!”

“They’re currently condemned with the amount of damage. I’m not sure what you might be able to recover at this point.” Izumo wrings his hands nervously. “I’m so sorry.”

Iruka throws the sheets back and tries to stand but is shoved back by Tsunade’s firm hand. He goes to argue and falls silent, his jaw tight. Kakashi wants to break her arm.

“Iruka, I understand that this is important, but you need to rest. You’re not on active ninja duty, you’re not used to this level of engagement. Once you are discharged you can check out your unit.”

“Why not tell him at discharge?” Kakashi criticizes.

“I’d rather him be prepared than surprised. And if you don’t rest, I’ll extend your stay. I’ll see what I can do about helping you relocate.”

“...yes, Hokage-sama. I understand,” Iruka bites out.

She leaves curtly with Izumo in tow.

Iruka crumples the sheets in his fists. Kakashi can feel the waves of panic rolling off of him, compressed into a muted form that manifests itself as labored breathing and unsteady muttering.

“I have to go. I have to see…” he says and Kakashi isn’t sure Iruka is aware he’s talking out loud. 

“Fourteen years,” Iruka begins after a long silence, his eyes distant. “I’ve lived alone in my home for fourteen years and now it’s gone. Hell of a homecoming if there’s no home.” The forced smile cracks into a pained grimace. “I’m not overtly worried about the building, it’s just…” He closes his eyes. “I kept a few momentos from my parents. Small, insignificant trinkets that I should’ve tossed years ago but I never had the willpower to do. That’s all that’s left of them, I don’t even have _pictures._ I’m terrified that I’ll forget what they looked like,” he admits quietly, his voice wavering. “Some days I find I can’t remember the details of their faces or the smell of my mother’s perfume or my father’s favorite hitai-ate. If they’re damaged, I’ll have _nothing_ left. We never had records of my family line in Konoha; we were always alone. Even the letters from Naruto—”

Kakashi strides to the hospital window, opens it up, and plants his foot on the windowsill. He holds a hand out to Iruka, imploring him to take it. “Let’s go.”

Iruka follows the line of his hand to his face, a flame of hope breaking the dread in his eyes. “I-I’m not discharged yet. You heard Tsunade.”

“Neither am I. Do you trust me?”

Without pause, Iruka steps out of bed and secures his hospital gown. He takes Kakashi’s hand. “Probably more than I should.”

  


The cry of pain Iruka makes crushes Kakashi’s heart into tiny pieces and he wants to whisk Iruka away, never to make that sound again. 

He lingers at the entrance, watching sorrowfully as Iruka timidly ventures into his ruined home, trailing his fingers on burnt furniture and shattered pots, trudging barefoot through the thick ashes that remain of his life. Everything he knew and loved, scorched in moments just as it had years before; Iruka’s face is brave, but Kakashi can tell he’s fracturing inside, the shadows of fires and anguish clear in his eyes.

He suffers alongside him as Iruka stumbles and then sprints to his bedroom, close to tears as he frantically digs through the charred debris of his closet on his knees, desperately searching for a small box of his parents’ belongings, his fingers closing on cold ash.

Kakashi drops to his knees and holds him tightly when Iruka finally breaks, hands marred by black as he grips Kakashi like a vice, unwilling to let go as he howls from the depths of his soul.

Quietly offering his strength, Kakashi tucks Iruka under his chin, fighting the body-wracking sobs and shudders that eventually leave Iruka worn to the bone, exhausted by his renewed grief. He withdraws into himself and becomes limp, relying on Kakashi to stay upright.

It takes only a few soft words to pull Iruka away, to convince him to come to the compound where Kakashi can gingerly tend to the wounds on his feet and knees, wiping away all traces of grey ash and charcoal. He kisses Iruka’s palms as he rubs healing salve over the small cuts, using every excuse to keep touching him.

In retrospect, Kakashi wonders if he pushed Iruka too far but when Iruka desperately clings to him as Kakashi tries to pull away, Kakashi promptly banishes the thought; it has all been necessary to get them to this moment. He absently assumes Iruka may be afraid of Kakashi disappearing too, and he wants to exploit it. He whispers gentle reassurances, mindless sounds that lull Iruka into something that resembles calm.

Sitting in Kakashi’s living room with a warm cup of his favorite tea and a blanket laid over his shoulders, Iruka is dazed and wrung out. His reddened eyes are open but unseeing.

Running his knuckles down Iruka’s slightly puffy cheek, Kakashi thumbs away a smudge of black and Iruka gives him the tiniest of smiles. “You don’t have to stay if you don’t want to,” Kakashi prefaces cautiously. “It can be temporary, just until you find your own place.”

Iruka nods once, his throat working. “You’ve done so much for me; thank you. I hate to keep imposing, it’s just a lot to take in. My...my home, the mission, it’s all..” he falls silent, tiredly shaking his head. 

Kakashi removes the cup and takes Iruka’s hand in both of his. “Or you can stay as long as you want,” he coaxes with barely hidden urgency. “It’s not much and it can get pretty lonely, but I have the space and you’re welcome to it. I’ll help in any way I can; you’re my priority.”

Iruka meets his gaze head on, searching deep into Kakashi’s eyes for a long, unnerving moment. Kakashi is mildly unsettled but refuses to look away, letting a sliver of his devotion bleed into his expression and appeal to Iruka’s raw wounds.

“I hate to impose,” Iruka repeats slowly, something flickering in his own eyes, changing, “but there is something.”

“Anything,” Kakashi says immediately.

Iruka turns to him and pulls Kakashi’s mask down to meet his lips in a sweet kiss that raises the hairs on Kakashi’s neck. Kakashi lets Iruka lead, parting his lips and letting Iruka delve in, taking what he wants.

“Make me forget. Make me stop thinking,” Iruka begs, reaching for Kakashi, tugging at the hem of his shirt. “I don’t want to think anymore.”

“Yes,” Kakashi promises fervently, a sense of power and control ringing through his body at Iruka’s admission. “Of course.”

 

Kakashi bodily presses Iruka onto the mattress, soaking in Iruka’s quick, shuddering breaths at his roaming hands and insistent mouth, never giving Iruka a reprieve to think of anything but Kakashi and his love. Every caress is a calculated attack, primed to keep Iruka under Kakashi’s spell and lost in a haze of pleasure he will remember forever with Kakashi at his side.

Chest rumbling with a pleased growl, Kakashi smiles wickedly at the sight of Iruka being undone beneath him, helpless under the onslaught of Kakashi’s ministrations. Iruka’s neck is dotted with small red marks and his lips swollen from long, unrelenting, demanding kisses from Kakashi. A few bite marks adorn the flesh between his neck and shoulder and Kakashi runs his tongue along his teeth, intent on leaving more marks on Iruka’s skin.

Planting his feet firmly on the ground, Kakashi stands at the foot of the bed and quickly divests Iruka of his hospital gown, leaving him clad only in grey boxers. He critically eyes the bandages along Iruka’s torso and removes them, summoning healing chakra and disguising it as more teasing touches. His hands circle Iruka’s hips and drag him closer, his knee knocking open Iruka’s legs. Kakashi settles between them, his cock resting heavy next to Iruka’s, straining against the fabric of his own boxers. Iruka sucks in a sharp breath as Kakashi experimentally thrusts forward, rocking his pelvis into Iruka’s groin.

“Kakashi!” Iruka calls, rolling his hips to grind against Kakashi, all sense of propriety gone in the face of Kakashi’s relentless siege. _“Oh, fuck me….”_

“That’s the point,” Kakashi hums, voice pitched low with desire. 

Hungrily and with a hint of desperation, Iruka pushes off the bed and spears both hands into Kakashi’s hair, hauling him down and kissing him fiercely, his hands gliding down to hook around Kakashi’s neck.

Kakashi grabs Iruka’s jaw and holds him in place as he angles his body to hover over Iruka, breaking Iruka’s grip and completely devouring his mouth in a scorching burn of control. Iruka shudders, bracing himself on his elbows. Kakashi licks deep and retreats to slide his tongue along Iruka’s lips, tracing and memorizing their shape. Iruka tries to respond in kind but Kakashi tucks a hand into the bend of his hip, his thumb brushing the cum-slicked head of Iruka’s cock.

Iruka jerks, hissing at the contact and Kakashi slides a hand up his chest and shoves Iruka down, the command clear in the force. Iruka’s blinks in surprise, his pulse thundering against Kakashi’s open palm and Kakashi purrs, twisting his restraint into a brief, feather-light drag of fingers across Iruka’s nipples, the buds of flesh pebbling beautifully.

He trails a hand down Iruka’s abs and into the trail of hair beneath, watching Iruka’s stomach cave in as he slips a hand into Iruka’s boxers and palms his cock, the movement slick with pearls of pre-cum coating his hand. He gives a few, rough strokes and twists his wrist and Iruka releases a strangled groan, eyes squeezing shut and legs clenching around the unyielding wall of Kakashi’s hips.

Pleasure coils at the base of his spine but Kakashi ignores it, too absorbed with Iruka’s beautiful expressions as he works his cock, nearly salivating at Iruka’s choked-off cries of his name. It’s ambrosia, feeding Kakashi’s obsession to new heights.

Prior to Kakashi’s campaign to seduce Iruka, he’d never imagined being this close to Iruka; the mere acknowledgement sends his blood burning hotter, consuming him from inside with his need to prove to Iruka that this moment is destiny, their fates intertwining forever to bring them this bliss.

He varies his strokes, testing which combination Iruka prefers and then abusing it openly.

“Shit, I can’t— back off, back off,” Iruka suddenly begs, regaining enough of his faculties to scramble away from Kakashi’s grip, his body beginning to shake. “I won’t last.”

Kakashi frowns. “If you’re still coherent, I’m not doing a good job.”

Iruka’s lips quirk and before he can respond, Kakashi brusquely grabs his ankle and yanks him back in place, this time capturing his wrists in one hand and pinning them high over Iruka’s head. He sets a knee on the bed to steady himself and snakes his free hand back into Iruka’s boxers, grasping his cock in a torturously slow stroke. He watches Iruka intently, feeling Iruka’s wild pants against his face.

_“Oh hell.”_ Iruka writhes, his length throbbing furiously in Kakashi’s grip. “I can’t think, _ohhh_.”

“Don’t think, just feel,” Kakashi murmurs softly, ducking down to steal a few kisses. “It’s just you and me and nothing else.”

Switching to a chakra restraint to hold Iruka down, Kakashi summons a kunai and brusquely cuts Iruka’s boxers away. Iruka’s cock jumps at the cool air and he pumps his hips, seeking friction. Kakashi moans lowly at the desperation, his own cock hardening impossibly, pulsing in time with his feverish heartbeat.

Recalling each sensitive spot on Iruka’s body from their time spent together bathing, Kakashi mercilessly targets them, swooping down to trail kiss marks across Iruka’s chest and abdomen, completely avoiding Iruka’s cock as he ducks down to nibble on the crease of Iruka’s hip.

“You’re so hard for me,” he breathes, letting the heat of his words tease Iruka’s swollen head. “So perfect. I love you.”

Iruka’s response is unintelligible and Kakashi smirks arrogantly. He abruptly drags his tongue from the base of Iruka’s erection to the tip, swirling around his slit. 

Iruka’s spine sharply arches and he shouts hoarsely, the muscles in his neck in stark relief. “Kakashi, please!”

“Not yet,” Kakashi tuts, reaching down to fondle Iruka’s sac, tugging and rolling the sensitive flesh expertly. His fingers sneak down to Iruka’s perineum, rubbing the tender area. “Not until I’m inside you.”

The driving force behind Kakashi’s machinations has always been a dark, insidious need to own Iruka, to possess and love him; from the very beginning, Kakashi had suppressed that side. He finally capitulates, letting his obsession pour out.

_Mine_ , his mind decrees as he draws more broken whimpers from Iruka, memorizing the way he trembles as Kakashi dives in to press open-mouthed kisses along his torso, wiping away any memory of Tsunade or any hospital staff. His tongue finds Iruka’s nipples with ease, laving each until Iruka strains away from his mouth, chest heaving. _Mine_ . His hand abandons Iruka’s erection to slide down and grip his ass, squeezing and hauling Iruka closer, guiding Iruka’s shaky bucking against the rigid length of his cock, imagining how it would feel once he was inside. _Mine._ He strips off his own boxers inelegantly and takes them both in one hand, panting as Iruka brands him with his heat.

_“Mine,”_ he inadvertently rasps out loud, hardly recognizing his own voice.

Iruka’s cock throbs at the admission and Kakashi licks his lips, leaning in to kiss Iruka, desire destroying any semblance of skill as they both fight to get closer, Iruka reduced to wordless moans and feeble protests. 

“You belong to me,” Kakashi growls, pressing promise onto Iruka’s lips, biting down gently on a full bottom lip. “ _Fuck, you feel so good._ Iruka, you’re mine.”

With a grunted curse, Iruka’s face switches from sexual torment to pure lust, thrusting his cock through Kakashi’s grip.

Inhaling deeply through his nose, Kakashi falters in his strokes. Iruka’s scent is overwhelming; it fills his nose and lungs and heightens the desire that pools in Kakashi’s stomach, hardening his cock further. With a guttural groan, Kakashi steadies himself on the bed with both hands and lets his head hang, eyes closed, body focused on nothing but the synchronized rocking of their hips, his spine curving as his hip flexors strain towards Iruka.

Sweat builds as his temple and drips down, Iruka’s body glowing with a similar sheen. Kakashi draws Iruka into another wild kiss, growling appreciably as Iruka opens without hesitation, wholly accepting of him and his demands. He rewards Iruka with a slow, heavy roll of his hips, backing up to let his cock slip down towards Iruka’s hole, letting the firm weight press against the sensitive flesh.

Iruka’s body becomes live-wire rigid, eyes blown open in shock before sliding into half-mast, clouded with pleasure. His length pulses besides Kakashi and Kakashi stills, attempting to control his own ragged breathing.

A dizzying tide of need seizes Kakashi and he breaks the chakra restraint and impatiently reaches for the lube. Iruka lets his legs fall open, muscles jumping from tension. He brushes damp hair out of his face and hazily peers up at Kakashi with half-lidded eyes.

“Iruka, I need you to relax for me,” Kakashi whispers, pressing a slick finger to Iruka’s hole. He doesn’t breach, resting the pad of his finger to the taunt flesh.

Iruka nods loosely. “Go slow.” He offers a soft moan as Kakashi pushes past the tight ring of muscles.

Iruka clenches around him and gradually relaxes, allowing Kakashi to slide in further. The heat is almost unbearable and Kakashi swears, imagining it enveloping his cock, sucking him deep. 

Despite the pounding of blood in his ears, the nearly unbearable swelling of his cock, and Iruka’s pleas to hurry, Kakashi takes his time, exploring Iruka’s entrance thoroughly, crooking his fingers and pin-pointing Iruka’s prostate. He discovers Iruka’s threshold for cumming and constantly drives him towards it and slowing down, Iruka utterly helpless. Kakashi adds a second finger and then a third, slipping in and out, mimicking what is to come. Heeding Iruka’s mounting cries, Kakashi pours more lube into his hand and slicks up his cock, stroking Iruka to keep him on edge.

Repositioning himself, Kakashi steps back onto the floor to adjust Iruka and prop a pillow beneath his hips, creating a spectacularly intimate view of Iruka’s body. Licking his lips at the sight and Iruka’s excited reaction, Kakashi lines up and rests the head of his cock to Iruka’s hole, rocking gently until Iruka curses and looks at him, eyes blazing with wanton lust and demand.

Holding Iruka’s gaze, Kakashi slowly slides in, meeting minimal resistance as Iruka’s body yields to the pressure. He nearly bites off his tongue, all thought vanishing from his mind at the intense pressure swallowing his cockhead and working the length of his shaft.

“Ah, fuck,” he grunts, bowing to sink forward a few inches, battling the urge to snap his hips forward.

“Gods,” Iruka whimpers and quivers beneath him, gripping Kakashi’s forearms for stability and twisting his head to the side. He gently bites and kisses Kakashi’s wrist, eyes shutting as Kakashi’s cock eases deeper into him, inch by inch. _“Gods.”_

Kakashi stops once his thighs hug Iruka’s ass, seamlessly sheathed to the hilt. He takes a moment for his brain to restart and let Iruka adapt to the weight of Kakashi within him. Iruka protests, tilting the cradle of his hips to entice Kakashi.

Obeying Iruka’s hoarse command, Kakashi begins to thrust, gradually becoming rougher as Iruka voices his approval. He draws out far enough to catch his cockhead on Iruka’s rim before pushing back in one smooth motion. Iruka arches his back magnificently, writhing as Kakashi rubs past his prostate. Kakashi devours each sound hungrily, a single-minded focus overtaking him.

A stray thought enters Kakashi’s head and sudden bloodlust mixes volatilely with the desire coursing through his body. He considers it lax on his part that he never confirmed if Iruka had slept with anyone else; the thought consumes him and his pace becomes merciless and relentless, driven to burn away any other memory of a touch on Iruka’s body.

Iruka’s cries morph into stilted gasps, his eyes wrenching open in surprise at Kakashi’s aggression, encouraging Kakashi to keep his brutal pace. Iruka’s fingers mindlessly grope the bed for leverage and to ground himself.

Tasting blood, Kakashi pins Iruka’s legs to his hips and uses a boost of chakra to force him up the bed, Kakashi’s cock still inside him. Bracing with his knees, Kakashi drops to his elbows to cage Iruka, and switches to long, steady thrusts.

“Iruka, look at me,” he demands breathlessly, jerking his hips sharply, his cock grinding into Iruka’s prostate and Iruka’s length gliding across his stomach. He sees white as Iruka clenches and loosens around him, working his cock perfectly.

“Mmm-fuck,” Iruka manages, barely having the strength to focus on Kakashi’s face, only inches apart. His eyes are blown wide, darker than Kakashi has ever seen them.

He rocks forwards on the balls of his feet. “Iruka, do you love me? Tell me.” He gives another firm rock, a string of incoherent curses yanked from his throat as Iruka tilts his hips up, fighting to keep Kakashi inside. “ _Iruka.”_

Iruka swallows heavily, keening at another angled pump. He anchors himself on Kakashi’s shoulders with a bruising grip. “Shit,” he grunts, curving his spine and allowing Kakashi to lick down his throat. “Oh!”

Kakashi’s grasp on his control slips as his thrusts become sloppy, the white-hot heat building too quickly, his entire body singing with love for Iruka. He grasps Iruka’s hips and angles them up, driving his cock in deep. Iruka instinctually follows his lead and plants his feet on the bed, supporting his weight.

“Gods, how I’ve wanted you,” Kakashi admits, rising back up on his palms to thrust harder, every muscle straining towards Iruka. “I’ve wanted you for years. Nearly from the moment I saw you, I — _ha—_ I needed you to be mine.”

He can’t tell if Iruka understands him, but the floodgates are open and all of Kakashi’s pent up love bursts out with each beat of his heart.

“I want your attention. I want your smiles and laughs to be mine,” he gasps, his sac tightening, drawing closer to his body as mind-numbing pleasure threatens to take him over. “I think about you every day, everywhere I go. I can’t get away from you. I don’t want to. _Fuck._ ”

“Kakashi!” Iruka says in a long moan, the muscles of his body bunching up as his thighs shake with the strain. _“Ngh, oh gods!”_

“I want you so much because I love you. Iruka — _hah—_ I love you so damn much,” Kakashi croons, pulling Iruka into a messy kiss of clicking teeth and nipped lips. “So fucking much, don’t ever leave me. I’ll kill us both if it comes to that, but you can’t leave me. I won’t allow it, you’re mine.”

Iruka makes harsh, broken sounds that Kakashi loves, driven to seeking more. He moves the final piece of his game and uses the Sharingan to lock them both in a genjutsu, heightening their bliss impossibly. Iruka keens and Kakashi knows he won’t last longer.

“Perfect, you’re perfect. _Shit,_ gods themselves couldn’t take you from me. I love you so much. _Iruka._ ”

“....love you,” Iruka manages in a raw, uneven voice before he clenches around Kakashi’s cock, body spasming in helpless pleasure as he cums against their stomachs. 

Kakashi’s own orgasm blindsides him, ripping a shout from his throat as he pulses inside of Iruka, riding the wave with fast, shallow digs.

Euphoria likes he’s never experienced before envelopes Kakashi and he uses the last of his strength to keep from crushing Iruka, merely leaning back on his haunches as his body shudders.

Iruka becomes pliant and slumps back, gasping as if he were drowning. His entire body is trembling, shuddering as he mumbles incoherently, closing his eyes. He promptly passes out and Kakashi switches from surprised to arrogantly pleased at having realized one of his desires; he’d fucked Iruka unconscious. He supposes Iruka’s emotional turmoil from the mission and the house fire played a part, but Kakashi dismisses it; he’ll deal with those matters later and make a show of finding Iruka’s prized box.

In awe of Iruka’s perfection, coated in sweat and other bodily fluids as he is, Kakashi remains inside him, savoring the tiny aftershocks that massage his cock. He entertains the idea of continuing, of watching Iruka wake up to Kakashi still inside; a bolt of desire shoots to his length and Kakashi regretfully files the thought away; there will be time.

Wrapped in the fog of tingling pleasure, Kakashi feels a sharp grin slowly curve his lips. Iruka is finally _HIS_ ; in body and soul, he has conquered Iruka and claimed his heart. The mere thought sends shock through Kakashi’s body and he has to look at the evidence of his love littering Iruka’s body and trapped inside him to prove this moment is real.

Indulging in prose, Kakashi claims the world moved and the ground shook with their divine union; it was akin to a spiritual experience, their souls becoming one.

Peace calms his heart and Kakashi softens his grin, peppering chaste kisses on every patch of tan skin he can reach and whispering praises and prayers. 

Iruka had irrevocably admitted loving him.

Tonight, Kakashi will fall asleep beside his beloved and wake up next to him.

With quiet certainty, Kakashi knows he has truly won.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And thus this story ends. Or does it? Idk chances are I'll come back to this again due to some unexplored ideas and my love of psycho Kakashi.  
> On a side note, you know what's interesting? Stockholm Syndrome. But that's an scenario for a different fic...  
> Drop a comment if you love/hate Kakashi and lemme know your thoughts! I'll see you guys on my other shit <3


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